


Tacca Chantrieri

by Gozkin



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Boys Kissing, Dream is the older one LOL, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Lies, M/M, Smut, Swearing, The title is a type of flower, Twilight References, Vampires, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28822956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gozkin/pseuds/Gozkin
Summary: Dream is a vampire. George is a human. When Dream moves to a new town in Florida, he is surprised to find a boy who’s blood smells just a little too good.It’s literally just twilight. Vampires and wolves woohoo! :DThis story is going to have a lot of scenes and references from the Twilight books and movies, and some things will also be a lot different because hey, it’s fiction.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 168





	1. Alcea Rosea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hollyhock(Alcea rosea) represent ambition, fertility and fruitfulness. The ambition association is mainly due to the fact that hollyhocks can survive a multitude of weather conditions and continue to bloom.

So, vampires are a thing.

And Dream happened to be one.

An unfortunate fate, perhaps, but he couldn't imagine his life without...well, he wasn't alive anymore, but you get it.

Today he would be starting college.

Starting may be a bit stretched- see Dream was 528 years old, and he had recently moved to a new town. Only about a month ago, and in the time he's been here, he managed to open a probably too-fancy bar, and bought himself a mini mansion.

Yeah, Dream's a wealthy man. Living all this time, not having to worry about paying for food or anything like that, opening different hotels and restaurants and such to just grow his wealth.

But he didn't live on human blood. He mostly drank coconut water, which had worked pretty well the past few decades. Sometimes he would go out and hunt animals, but never humans. He held no desire, and didn't exactly want to live with the fact he was killing someone merely so he could feed himself.

Not like he felt bad, it was just a bit weird.

When he'd first been turned, the blood diet wasn't all too surprising or freaky, he decided his reason was that he already ate meat- what's so different with blood?

He never liked killing people, though. Sure he had sucked a few dry when he was a baby vampire, the thirst was overwhelming and he couldn't exactly control it.

But after he got better at controlling the thirst, he stopped and decided to only feed on animals. It didn't taste as good, but he lived.

And then he was introduced to coconut water, which was even worse- he had to drink it far more often, but what can he say, he's a lazy shit. Having to go out and locate animals large enough to satisfy him was definitely an annoying task.

And things were a bit different than in movies, too. He liked to read books and watch shows just to humour himself with the things they had been so, so wrong about.

Those scenes where a vampire shot their fangs out and stuck them into a victims neck as they screamed out in agony- yeah, that's not how it works.

Vampires don't have fangs, their teeth are just like anyone else's. Except razor sharp(despite their rounded appearance), unbreakable, and extremely strong.

Oh, and being bitten didn't hurt. It was enjoyable for both the giver and receiver, which is pretty fucking weird.

And it's unsanitary! Biting into someone's neck with the risk of hitting an artery or something- if the sticky blood would somehow shoot into his face, just the thought made him gag. Completely unprofessional.

He'd heard stories of vampires softly biting into their human lover, an oddly intimate experience. Human and vampire is completely forbidden.

There was a council, a few people who watched carefully and decided laws, kept vampires a secret from the humans. They were the most powerful- but Dream wasn't worried whatsoever, all he did was go to college, make a few friends, move every few years without a trace, watch his old friends die, so on.

He also liked playing Minecraft, it was a pretty cool thing to watch technology be invented. He thought of himself as pretty good at the game, life had been pretty boring so playing was the only thing he could really do all night.

He can't sleep, or eat. At first it was uncomfortable to not breathe, but he got used to just moving his shoulders and chest to make it look like he was breathing around others.

Eating without a working digestive system was pretty.... weird. He usually coughed up food if he decided to eat around friends, or held the heavy contents in his stomach until he left and then threw them up in the grass.

Sleeping is just completely impossible. He didn't feel fatigue, which frustrated him from time to time. It was annoying, just laying in bed and staring at a ceiling- analyzing the cracks and paint chips for hours on end, trying to make up faces, maybe imagine someone's smile with the way the paint had cracked on the ceiling.

As much as he tried, slumber never came. Which was extremely unfortunate that one year he had to spend in a dorm with a roommate. He thought it would be a fun experience, but his roomie found it pretty suspicious that Dream hadn't slept for a single night they retreated back to the dorm room.

He was on coconut water- which made his eyes a vibrant green color. It seemed to compliment his messy, dirty blonde hair though, and he didn't need to wear contacts so there was no complaint.

Being on a human blood diet turned a vampires eyes a bright red, being on an animal blood turned their eyes a beautiful amber, and coconut water made them a variant of green(which slowly got paler the longer they went without their choice of liquid).

And without the ability to go out into the sun, Dream was extremely pale. Not like the sun burnt him or anything, but his skin did sparkle when any kind of sunlight hit his skin. He preferred going out on cloudy days, but he made do with wearing a hood and gloves when it was sunny out.

Anyways, it was time to get ready for the first day.

He'd been going to college for as long as he can remember- he needs some kind of distraction from his boring life.

Besides running a bar and all; he mostly only went to the bar at night to check up on things. He named it The Holy Land, which was pretty funny, because it was anything BUT holy.

He pulled on an old green sweatshirt and some black skinny jeans, along with some dirty black nike shoes and his usual fingerless gloves. He quickly slung a leather bag over his shoulder that held a bottle of coconut water and some notebooks- and left the house. With his hood up, of course.

For someone with so much money, you'd think he would dress better. He did like dressing up, but not for college, mostly just for when he had meetings or went to his buildings.

He sat down in a seat for his first class: History. Now this should have been the most easiest class, as you could imagine- but how was he supposed to remember specifics from like 300 years ago? Fuck that.

So he pulled his bottle out and took a sip of coconut water, and then something- a scent- crawled into his nose and burned down his throat, causing him to choke on his drink.

_What the fuck?_

He held a hand over his nose, squeezing his eyes shut tight. It was sweet, delicious. It was blood.

When he opened his eyes, they frantically scanned around the room to figure out who the scent was coming from. He had locked widened eyes with another pair- one that belonged to a small boy with dark brown, maybe black hair.

With the fingers pinched around his nose and a repulsed look on his face, the boy must have thought he was disgusted or something, because he looked away disheartened as he sat down on the other side of the room.

Dream let his gaze linger, confused. He swallowed thickly, finally tearing his eyes away to settle down on his notebook, which now seemed like the most interesting thing in the world.

He took another drink of the coconut water, hoping to calm down the sudden thirst that begged to be satisfied.

He never wanted human blood. Never. It almost made him feel nauseous, the thought of someone's sticky, thick fluids gliding down his throat. Well, the red kind at least.

But those thoughts were now abandoned, and he felt himself tightly gripping onto the desk with a warm sensation building in his mouth as a clear venom began coating his teeth.

It was hard, trying to control himself. It was like being starved for a month, and then having your favorite food placed in front of you. But 10 times worse.

He looked over to the boy again, knitting his eyebrows together while he examined him closely. What the fuck could be causing him to react so harshly to someone's blood?

Every human's blood was different. Smell, taste, consistency. There was no doubt that some people's blood was more fragrant than others, but even then he had no problem controlling himself.

He gritted his teeth, turning his attention back to the professor as he began.

Dream found himself unable to concentrate the whole class.

When they had been dismissed, he quickly scrambled up and left to his next class. There was only 3 classes he would take this semester, which he was slightly bummed about.

But while he was walking into the next class, the smell didn't go away. He noticed the boy following him, going into the same classroom, and sitting down near the front. Dream sat in the back, as far as he could get from the stupid aroma.

He had to be stuck with this for TWO classes. He pondered maybe- dropping out already, moving again. That wouldn't be too bad. If he had to deal with this every single day, it would be absolute torture.

The smell was just- so good. He wanted so badly to tear into the boy right then and there, plunge his teeth into his smooth pinkish flesh and drain the liquid that once seemed so gross.

If Dream had a beating heart, it would definitely be slamming against his rib cage. But he didn't. So instead, prickles of heat stung into his chest, his stomach, his head. A headache had definitely formed, and the distasteful venom was still secreting from his mouth and pooling under his tongue.

That's one thing he hated when he was on a blood diet. Anytime he would become anxious with thirst from the scent of blood, a rich coating would stick to his teeth and tongue. Once he bit into his prey, it would seep into the injury and turn them if enough had made it into the bite.

It was controllable, but it took time to learn how. And it had been so long, he completely forgot how to keep the substance from spilling into his mouth.

He continued glancing to the boy, glances turning into a full on stare as he studied every single feature he could from the angle they were at. His heightened vision came in handy, even if it was for a reason he didn't exactly like. He chewed on his bottom lip as he looked at the soft, bruise colored skin underneath the boy's eyes.

He looked tired, though the bags were quite forgiving. They complimented his big, dark brown eyes and completed the exhausted college student look. He must have stayed up quite late preparing for the day.

The class was soon over, and his burning gaze had been noticed, because the other looked over to him with curiosity, his lips slightly parted.

Maybe he could befriend this strange kid- get to know him, ask his blood type if that wasn't too creepy. Get close to him. Kill hi-

No, no not that part. No killing.

Just try and figure out why his blood was so fragrant, why it smelled so strongly. If he could control himself, that is.

But it went a little deeper, and Dream knew that. An intense yearning was searing his core, the need to protect the boy, maybe? He felt possessive, he didn't want anyone else to go near him. He wanted no others to talk to him. 

Yet he wanted- needed to keep distance. It was already painful to keep himself away, and it had only been, what, 2 hours?

Dream had this desperate look glazed over his face. It was quite sad. This single boy had him so helpless, had his knees weak and wobbly as he began trying to stand from his seat.

This thirst was different, so different. Not normal. And that scared him.

So different that the thought of being away from the other felt distressing. He wanted to just.. walk over and tug his sleeve, pull him to the bathroom, and place his lips against the warm flesh on the boy's throat. Just to feel his pulse, hear the blood pumping through his body, please the warmth in his chest that so miserably needed the sweet blood.

This was absolutely pathetic.

Their eye contact broke as Dream exited the room, much to his dismay. But he had to get to his last class.

He hadn't learned much that day. His thoughts were clouded with that stupid boy and the trace of his stupid scent still burning his nostrils.

Not that there was much to learn anyways, the classes were mostly just professors introducing themselves and how the semester would be planned out, but still.

He'd already gone through his whole bottle of coconut water in attempt to calm his thirst, which didn't seem to help whatsoever- so he quickly made his way home and downed another few bottles in a record speed.

He heard a scratching at the window, recognizing it as the small stray tabby that had been hanging around the past few days.

The dumb cat somehow got under his skin and made him soft, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he opened the window to let her in.

"I haven't gone to the bar yet, I don't have any food for you girlie!" He frowned, scratching behind the cat's ear.

He made it a daily routine to always bring back a small baggie of leftover meat whenever he visited the bar, but he would just go later that night instead.

He chilled on his couch and watched some random drama series(which was actually pretty interesting) until he got bored and decided it was time to visit his bar, check on what was happening.

He wouldn't admit it, but something in him hoped he'd be able to pick someone up to sleep with every time he went off to some public place- irresponsible? Absolutely. But an attractive vampire with a high sex drive certainly wasn't an uncommon thing.

Maybe he also just liked feeling the warmth of another person against his cold skin. Nights got lonely, and though he couldn't sleep, just feeling the heat radiating off of skin against his own was comforting.

So he pulled on a vest and black pants to look a little less.. homeless, and went to The Holy Land.

He walked in, immediately sitting at a stool and greeting the bartender.

He ordered an original drink called Wet Hands, which he named from Minecraft- it was really dumb, but he found it pretty funny.

He just sat on the stool, slowly sipping the drink as soft music filled the room. And then it came again.

That fucking smell.

He whipped his head to the door, but nobody was there besides whoever was already here.

He groaned quietly, downing the rest of his drink and resting his chin on a hand.

"Fancy seeing you here,"

Came a small voice from beside him.

Dream turned his head with slightly widened eyes, his hand twitching against the table while he struggled against reaching out and attacking.

"Woah, chill. I'm George." He chuckled nervously at the freaked out expression on Dream's face and sat in the stool next to him.

Dream opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He let his eyes wander to the exposed skin above George's collar bone, deciding he should probably say something.

"I'm Dream," He said quietly, no longer bearing a shocked look.

He now looked composed on the outside, despite the burning in his throat and the knives driving into his stomach from the stench.

"Can I get you a drink?" Dream smiled softly, earning a nod from George.

Now they played a game as they drank, sneaking glances at each other and seeing who could catch who.

They talked, just a bit, small chatter while Dream let the boy get tipsy. He hadn't realized, but the venom was covering his teeth once again and he had been just waiting. Waiting until George was drunk enough to agree to come home with him.

He bathed in the scent, being so close to George was the best torture he could have ever felt- he'd never wanted human blood more in his life. This was possibly worse than the thirst when he had first been turned.

Once George began slurring slightly, Dream put a hand on his cheek and leaned down to whisper in his ear,

"Why don't you let me take you home?"

He could hear George's heart beat quicken, the blood and beat pulsing into his ears. He hated hearing other people's pumping organs, it was obnoxious and distracting- but it felt nice in the moment.

He pulled away and stood up, watching as George flushed and hurried from the seat, eagerly grabbing onto Dream's arm to pull him outside.

Dream drove them to his house, earning a gasp from George as he awed at the huge house.

"You live here?" He whispered as Dream helped him out of the car.

The alcohol was catching up with George even more, he was stumbling and slurring his words with half lids.

As soon as the front door closed, Dream was lifting George and pushing him against it.

He took in a breath of the scent and dipped down as George tilted his head back, exposing his neck perfectly for Dream.

He had opened his mouth and let the venom spill from his mouth down onto George's neck and chest, cursing at himself for finding the moment strangely romantic.

Not only was the venom used to turn humans into vampires, once it had touched flesh, it seized the pain that should have been felt from the bite and turned it into a pleasing experience. That's weird. Another reason Dream didn't like biting people, someone being a moaning mess while he was literally killing them wasn't ideal.

He licked the venom from one spot and then bit down, causing a squeal from George. He tried not to go too deep, not deep enough to hurt the younger boy and turn him. He wouldn't wish this fate on anybody,

But it was hard to control himself.

Once a drop of blood hit his tongue, he was sucking and draining out more than he meant to, he couldn't stop.

George was squirming and whimpering with his arms and legs wrapped around Dream, his eyes shut tight from the stinging thrill.

Dream had pulled away and kissed George softly, whispering and reassuring that he did a good job. He carried him to the bed and laid him down, pressing a cloth to his neck and letting him fall asleep.

Dream's eyes were red. Bright red. It was hard to see in the dark house, but the small bit of blood had made his skin flush a pinky color as well.

This was not good at all- Dream hadn't drank human blood in decades- centuries, maybe. This changed something, he needed to protect George from anything and everything.

Surely he wouldn't remember this in the morning. That's a good thing.

The small bite on George's neck was a purple pink color, which he could easily play off as just a hickey- act just as confused as George would be in the morning and pretend to not know about what happened.

So he left George on the bed with a blanket and went out to the living room to await until morning with a cup of coconut milk to return his eyes back to the bright green they were supposed to be.

-

There's school today. It's only Tuesday, the second day of college, and he was already going around biting people. Perfect.

He got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, beginning to cook a breakfast for the two. It was still early, early enough to finish breakfast and then have more than enough time to take George home to get ready for the day.

He finished a plate of food and brought it into his room, sitting on the side of bed while George stirred.

"Hey, George, wake up." He whispered, shaking George's shoulder lightly.

As George's eyes opened, panic slowly filtered onto his face while he looked around the room.

"Did we-"

"No, you were just.. too drunk to drive- so I brought you here. I made...breakfast," Dream pushed the plate over, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

George grinned brightly, saying a quick thanks as Dream left the room to let him wake up more and eat.

Dream went to an extra closet and pulled clothes out, dressing himself for the day before sitting back down at the couch and waiting.

When George came out, he now had on an overly too-big t shirt and his same sweatpants from the previous night. Dream laughed into his hand as George covered his arms and shifted uncomfortably.

"I uhm- I put.. one of your shirts on, I can take it off, sorry-"

"No it's okay, you look good in it."

George blushed and looked down to play with the hem of the shirt while Dream cringed at what he had just said- he didn't mean to, it kind of just came out.

The smell wasn't as bad now. After he'd gotten a taste, it burned a bit less. He was so stupid last night, incredibly irresponsible and just, dumb.

Why did he think he'd be able to handle the venom? He did handle it, but if something went wrong and too much of it got into the bite, he'd have to just kill George. And that was something he couldn't do.

"I probably should have just taken you home, sorry for bringing you here. Let's go, there's still school," Dream stood up, sliding some shoes on and pulling his hood up.

They slid into the car and George gave him the address, but after that, there was a pretty uncomfy silence hanging around in the air. There wasn't really much to say, George had noticed the bruised skin on his neck when he looked in the mirror hanging on Dream's wall.

When they arrived, George handed his phone over to Dream on the contact list, biting his lip softly as Dream put his number in.

"See you in class, sweetheart," Dream said playfully as George got out, receiving an eye roll and dopey grin from the boy.

Once the door to the apartment building shut, Dream slammed his fist down onto the wheel and let out an annoyed whine.

"What the fuck is wrong with me!" He exclaimed, repeatedly honking his head against the horn hoping it would somehow knock him out and make him forget everything he'd done in the past 24 hours.

But sadly, it did nothing. So he drove back to his house, paced around to try and figure out a plan, and then packed everything up he would need for the day. Mostly just a lot of coconut water.

The plan was: befriend George, never let him know what happened, give him free drinks at the bar forever(as a thanks for letting him drain him, of course! :D), figure out why the fuck his blood smelled so good, and that was as far as he got with it.

He just needed to know why this boy made him act so weirdly.

Maybe he could call an old friend for help, surely he would know.

After class, he decided.

꧁ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ꧂

George felt a fluttering in his chest as he dressed himself and got ready for the day. He lifted a hand to his neck, pressing against the sore bruise that prickled with heat.

_What happened last night?_

He wasn't sure. He couldn't remember. Dream said they hadn't done anything, yet there was a rather large hickey very visible on his neck.

His legs and back were sore too, which was weird, because he slept on a big fluffy mattress that felt like a cloud. (Surprise surprise, it was because of how hard Dream had pressed him against the door last night. He wasn't exactly controlling his strength as much as he should have)

All he remembered was going to the new bar to get a drink, finding the guy that was from his college, and going up to say hi. Everything else was blurred. At least he remembered his name.

He had an idea of what happened- waking up in his bed, in his luxurious house, greeted with a nice breakfast and a fond smile.

But why would Dream lie to him? He felt he had some kind of dedication to Dream now. Not like that was a bad thing, Dream is an attractive boy with a kind personality. Well at least he thinks he had a kind personality, he didn't really remember.

Yesterday, Dream did keep looking at him with a pretty grossed out face, that was pretty saddening but maybe it wasn't directed towards him. Yeah, it wasn't directed towards him. Definitely.

He stepped into his first class and spotted Dream, slowly walking up and seating himself next to the oddly familiar boy.

It was like- he could remember, but he couldn't remember. He looked over to Dream, who wore a slight smirk. It quickly fell when he noticed the bite mark, completely forgetting about it.

"Oh George I-" Dream sighed and looked back down to the front of the room.

"Did I do that?" he asked a bit quieter, trying to play himself off as confused.

George knitted his brows, picking at his cuticles as a way to try and ease his nerves.

"I- I think so,"

"I..got drunk too, I don't really remember what happened- I just know we didn't... do anything too bad."

They were both quiet, praying silently that the professor would start soon so they didn't have to continue with the awkward conversation.

They probably needed to talk about it, but neither wanted to.

The class was soon over, and George watched as Dream got up and raced out of the room like he had done the previous day.

He giggled to himself at the urgency, following after him to their next class.

He sat next to Dream again with a smile, excited to hopefully have a new friend- they were friends, right? Excusing whatever they did last night.

His grin faltered as Dream sighed and turned away from him with 2 fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. Maybe Dream just wanted to hit and go or something. Attractive guys seemed to do that a lot.

He didn't know if Dream was lying; he probably was, and knew exactly what they did. That's why he woke up in his bed with a hickey, that's why his legs were sore. Of course it was.

He propped his elbow on the table and held his head in his palm, trying to think of what he could do- think of possibilities to what could have happened. He hadn't texted his roommate before he left last night, and when he got back to the apartment, he was already gone.

He'd shot a text to him apologizing earlier, but there was no answer- he always texted his friend if he may have been sleeping elsewhere, but he never planned on getting drunk and going home with someone in the first place.

His roommate, Nick, was pretty damn protective of him, insisting on picking him up from wherever he was all the time, texting him to make sure he was safe whenever he was out, holding him on their small couch when he would cry, help him with homework, they were pretty much brothers, he liked to think.

They had planned weekly game nights and tonight they would be going bowling. Maybe he could invite Dream? Get to know him a bit better, see if he was interested in being friends. And if he wasn't, well then the'd have his answer.

"Dream?" He whispered, keeping his head forward so the professor wouldn't get mad.

Dream had hummed in response as he drank down some more coconut water.

"Do you maybe- well I- we, me and my friend- we're going bowling tonight. Do you wanna come?" He stumbled over his words, flushing from embarrassment as Dream smiled at the stuttering.

All thoughts of Dream being a mega douche left as he nodded shyly. Great, now to explain to his best friend that the guy who picked him up at bar was suddenly coming to their game night.

The rest of the classes went by easy, and George had agreed to text Dream the details when he knew them all-

When he got to the apartment and walked in, Nick was sitting on the couch frowning at him.

"Dude. Where were you?"

"Uhh.. college?" He raised an eyebrow, smiling nervously.

"Oh- Well I went to that bar and apparently I got drunk and went home with someone.. sorry for not telling you," He sat next to Nick and tapped his foot, waiting to be scolded by his friend.

But it never came, Nick only nodded and made a dumb sexual joke, to which he scoffed and shoved him with an annoyed glare

꧁ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ꧂

Patches was mad. Mad that Dream hadn't brought any food home for her. She expressed this by biting and grabbing Dream's feet while he got ready to go bowling.

And this fuckers teeth hurt like a bitch.

Dream squealed as he stepped around, trying to get the small cat to leave him alone- but she continued howling and screaming at him while she sunk her tiny little claws into the heel of his foot.

He got a text from George saying he was there, and quickly ran out of the house, slamming the door on patches' face to escape her.

He got into George's car with an annoyed sigh from fending off the cat, but smiled and greeted him quietly.

It was a bit awkward at first, but then they began talking about random things, like favorite foods and Minecraft(which Dream was happy to hear they both played). It came easy to them when they were past the first tension.

And then they were in a parking lot, getting out and walking up to the building.

"My friend is already here getting food and a table," George explained as they got shoes and walked to find Nick.

Dream paused, his face twitching slightly. There was a smell. It was different from the sweetness of George's blood, it was wretched and filthy.

 _Dog_.

He looked at George, who was talking to his friend. And the friend was staring directly at Dream with a stone cold glare.

"Nick, this is Dream! He uh- took me.. home last ni- well, took me to his home last night,"

Dream stood straight, sticking a hand out to keep himself looking calm despite the wolf standing in front of him.

Dream didn't dislike werewolves, he actually thought they were pretty damn cool. But werewolves, weren't exactly fond of Vampires.

Still, Nick sucked in a breathe and shook his hand, still keeping a hard eye on him.

Nick was very visibly uncomfortable for the whole night, glancing anxiously at Dream and making sure George didn't get too close to him.

Dream excused himself to the bathroom to get away from the disgusting aroma, and Nick had followed him. So much for getting a break.

They both walked in and Nick threw a swing at Dream, to which he quickly grabbed his fist and slammed it into the wall behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing with George? I saw the bite you bitch!" Nick spat, whining quietly at the stinging in his hand.

Dream furrowed his brows, taking a step back.

"I-" he hesitated, trying to think of an excuse. There wasn't really one that would make sense

"I didn't mean to. That was the first time in 200 years that I've taken human blood. I don't want to hurt him," Dream pulled a hand through his hair, watching as Nick shifted his eyes around the small bathroom, anything to keep him from making eye contact.

"When this night is over, you never fucking talk to him again, hear me? Or I'll rip your god damn head off!"

"You let him decide that, dirty mut." Dream looked to Nick with absolute disgust before walking out of the bathroom and back to the table.

Just to spite Nick, he pulled an arm around George's waist whenever he had been looking, whispered jokes into his ear to make him giggle, ruffled his hair a few times. It was perfect, the defensive look that flashed across Nick's face every time he performed one of these small gestures.

And then the night was over, and Dream was back home.

"Oh fuck," he whispered to himself, remembering he was supposed to call his friend to ask about George.

He dialed a number in and pressed it to his ear gently, hearing the familiar voice on the other line after the third ring.

"Dream! It's been so long!"

"Hey, Wilbur."

"How are you?"

"Uh well- I kind of called to talk to you about that. Not very good." He paused a second, running a hand down his face.

"There's this human. His blood is.. it's different, it smells so good. I couldn't... control myself last night. I bit him, wil. He doesn't remember it cause he was drunk as shit, but I'm freaking out! I don't know what to do! I don't know why he's making me act like this-"

"Woah Dude calm down, you're word vomiting too fast. You bit him?"

"Yes!"

"And he's making you act weird?"

"Yes. I feel like.. I need to protect him. His best friend is a fucking wolf and he saw the mark, he knows it's not just some hickey. I don't feel right with him staying with that dumb dog."

A sigh came from Wilbur as he thought about possibilities.

"You're still on a coconut water diet though, right?"

"Yeah, last night was the first time I broke it in a long time,"

"His blood may have just been a lot more fragrant. Since you haven't had blood in a while, it could just be making you act on your thirst?" Wilbur sounded unsure, pausing before continuing with a hushed voice.

"We have soulmates, Dream. If they're somehow human, their blood is like... irresistible. I don't know why or how you could have possibly found your soulmate now, but it's possible. And if that's the case.."

"Wil you're freaking me out, he's not my 'soulmate'. That's.. impossible, right? I’m not gay." Dream _did_ have an attraction for men, though. Maybe he was just trying to convince himself that it wasn’t a possibility.

"It's not impossible. If that's the case, you need to move and never turn back to that city. The council will have both of your heads if you cause even a slight suspicion."

Dream chewed at his lip, keeping quiet at that. Surely he didn't have a human soulmate- he didn't even believe in soulmates, that's absolutely ridiculous. Yet here he was, finding himself absolutely helpless over this boy.

"Thanks, tell Zak and Darryl that I say hi." He quickly hung up, throwing his phone down onto the sofa.

No way he would have just now found a soulmate, after how many years? Over 500 years of waiting around, there no possible chance he could have magically wandered into this town and found this particular boy who just so happened to live with a wolf.

absolutely insane.

He turned on the drama show he had recently gotten obsessed with to busy his mind from the buzzing thoughts, but it didn't seem to work. Because he found himself thinking about George all through the night and into the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOLLLL TWILIGHT
> 
> Idk how committed I’ll be to this it just popped in my head and I wrote. And wrote. And wrote even more. This’ll be messy god forgive me


	2. Petunia Hybrida

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the most common meanings for the (black velvet)petunia are a soothing nature, resentment, and anger.

It was only 6 in the morning, 4 hours before classes started.

Dream had a bad feeling, a twinge in his stomach that made it hard to think.

He needed to find George. Now.

He ran out of his house and went around the town, going anywhere he could to get a whiff of his blood. It didn't take long, and he was soon following the trail to George.

Something was wrong, something _had_ to be wrong. He spotted George, watching him walk on the sidewalk with his eyes glued down to his phone. He stepped out into the street, and Dream had barely been able to run out beside him and stop the car that had been racing towards them with his hand, crushing the front of it.

George's eyes were widened and he was breathing heavily, his phone now face down on the sidewalk next to them.

Dream pondered running back off before George could see who had saved him, but it was too late, he had turned around and stared at Dream with an open mouth.

"You need to watch where you're going, George." He said sternly, wrapping his arms around the trembling boy.

"What just happened?" George questioned quietly as the person from the car came rushing out with a panicked expression.

Dream looked to the guy with a scarily calm smile, his mouth twitching while he fought off the urge to shove his hand through their throat and snap their neck right then. That wouldn’t help the situation much though, would it?

"Why are you out here? It's still early," Dream disregarded the question, wrapping an arm around George’s waist to hold him up while he continued shaking.

"I uhh.. morning walk? Dream _what the fuck just happened_!"

George glanced back to the car that was completely smashed in the front, utterly confused on whatever Dream did.

Dream only grabbed George's chin and faced him away from the car as he guided him back to his apartment, thinking about what he could do to explain how he just stopped that car.

Oh yeah, I'm a vampire and I have super strength and also you might be my soulmate, so you drive me absolutely crazy and that hickey on your neck is actually a bite— sorry i didn’t tell you! I sensed that you were in trouble and came to find you, which only took a minute because I can run 147 miles an hour and smell your disgustingly sweet blood from anywhere! Your best friend is a werewolf and he wants my head because every time I'm around you I have to use all my power to not rip into you! Are you okay, by the way?

It wasn't that easy. He decided that.. maybe he would just refuse to talk about it whenever it would be brought up. There's no way he could move, not now.

He was addicted to George. He was like a drug, and Dream needed his scent to survive.

It was getting better, he was getting more used to the smell the longer he stayed by George. But that didn't mean it was still almost impossible to control himself.

Dream dropped him back off at his apartment, texting Nick from George's now cracked phone that he was shaken up from an accident-

And George was so incredibly confused, all he could do was stand there and tremble at the door until Nick came out and brought the poor boy inside.

꧁ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ꧂

George sat down on the couch with his knees brought to his chest, thinking hard on the memory of earlier that morning. He decided to take the day off from school to just sit and chill, they would hopefully understand.

"Nick he- he stopped that car, I'm telling you!" He shouted at his friend, who shook his head in disbelief. Obviously he knew that Dream very much did stop that car, but he couldn't let George know that it was actually possible.

"I think you're just a little confused, he said you were probably in shock."

"No! Nick! I'm serious! The car was- it was like- it was crushed!" He took a fistful of hair and yanked it lightly, hoping it would ease his headache.

"Get some sleep, George." Nick sighed and draped a blanket over George's shoulders, but he only threw it off and stood up to face his friend.

"Why are you making me sound insane? I'm not crazy! Nick I- I- Nick!" George was stammering and shaking again, feeling a heat building up behind his eyes. He knew for a fact that what he saw was real- and his best friend, the person he'd been with for his whole life, was just disregarding it. And that made him angry. At himself, and at Nick.

George was now in Nick's warm arms, stuffing his face into his shoulder.

"You're okay, George. I believe you. I don't know what that.. means, but I believe you. Just please lay down and try and rest, okay?" He said softly, stroking a hand through George's hair to calm him down.

Nick seemed to be good at that, comforting people when they needed it. Especially George. George was a bit of a crybaby, they both knew that. Every time George's eyes would swell and the small tears glistened down his pretty face, Nick was there to talk to him and rub his shoulders, bring him to the couch and put on a movie with a bowl of popcorn.

And he could continue to be there for him, even though he was absolutely furious at the stupid piece of shit that did this in the first place. Well, he couldn't be too mad, he was more thankful than anything.

If Dream hadn't been there, George would be dead. He didn't know the rules or laws for vampires- but he did know that a human being aware was definitely not good.

Not good at all.

So they stayed in each other's embrace for a bit longer, before Nick felt the rising of George's chest start to slow down.

"Tired?"

George only mumbled something into his shirt before he was laid down on the couch with his blanket.

But he didn't sleep, he stayed looking up at the ceiling as Nick sat at the end of the couch.

"Do you like him?" George asked, just barely above a whisper.

Nick laughed as if saying ' _yeah, real funny_ ", forgetting that George had no idea he wasn't the biggest fan of Dream.

George frowned, fiddling with his fingers as Nick looked over and cleared his throat.

"He's uhh.. he's okay, I guess. I mean he saved you, right?"

"No, I mean do you like _him_ "

Nick grunted and wriggled uncomfortably. Obviously not. Well, not obviously. But of course he didn't like Dream. What could he say to George though? He wanted him to be happy. Not if it meant he would get killed from some blood sucker though.

"Listen George, I'm not sure if he's the best guy for you. He gives me bad vibes, and I'm not saying that just 'cause."

It was worth a shot, try and convince George to stop seeing Dream. They weren't seeing each other- it was just that one night. And George was tricked.

"What? What do you mean? I think he's pretty cool." He chewed into his lip, pulling the blanket close to his chest.

"I know you do, but he's.. I saw the hickey, George. You were drunk."

"We both were! He didn't mean to!" George was upset again, huffing at covering the mark on his neck with his hand.

Nick noticed the frustration George held, and figured it was best to stay quiet at that. Leave him alone. Don't bother him about Dream for now.

He let George just relax and fall asleep.

꧁ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ꧂

"Tell me more about soulmates?" Dream said into his phone while he paced back and fourth the living room, growing more frightened as the day had continued on. He still just couldn't get George out of his head, out of his senses.

He wanted to go check on him, take him away from the dog that had the pleasure of spending so much time with him, who got to comfort him after what had happened.

"Soulmates.. their blood is almost irresistible to a certain vampire. Their blood can be strong to other vampires, as well, but not nearly as bad as it is to their vampire." Wilbur continued on,

"It's hard for vampires to keep their soulmates alive, Dream. If this is really as bad as you say it is, you need to find a solution. Turning him is the only other thing you can do besides killing him. If the council finds out... they'll either kill you both, or just him. Neither of those are any better than the other."

"Is there any way to know for sure..? If we're- if he's-"

"You get feelings, like.. Before Zak turned Darryl, he had these feelings every once in a while. Whenever Darryl was in trouble, Zak could feel it. It's like you know when they need help, an instinct kicks in."

"Fuck!" Dream groaned out, sinking down into a recliner in the living room.

"That happened! This morning! I- got this feeling, and when I found him, he was about to get smashed by some fucking car! I stopped it and he- he saw. I stopped the car and crushed the damn front,"

"Oh my god," Wilbur grumbled, staying quiet for a bit after that.

"If you don't want to die, get out of there. If you want to protect him, get the fuck out of there. Or turn him. Those are your options Clay."

Dream winced at the usage of his old name, the one he had left long ago when he turned into this monster. He hung up the phone and threw it into the wall, a common occurrence whenever he had gotten off the phone with his friend.

He wasn't going anywhere, and he definitely wasn't turning George.

Nick could help. It would be hard, but he could talk to Nick and get him to help out. Maybe? Or the dog would get mad and tear his head off. Unlikely, because that would start a war, but still possible.

So he went to their apartment. He just kind of wandered around until the gross mut scent was strong enough, and then knocked on a random door. He was pretty sure they would be in there, that'd be pretty awkward if someone else lived there. 

A tired Nick opened the door with a yawn, but he straightened up quick when he noticed who was standing there.

"Get out of my building, asshole." He said lowly, already going to close the door.

But Dream grabbed onto Nick's shirt and pulled him out, shutting the door behind them.

"I need to talk to you," he started, taking a few steps back

"I think- I think, that George is my—" Dream sighed and stuffed his hands into his pocket. Not a good idea to keep himself open in front of a wolf that was probably about to get pretty heated.

"I think he's my soulmate."

"No."

Dream chuckled hollowly at the response.

"Yes, and I need your help."

Now it was Nick's turn to chuckle. He definitely thought Dream was absolutely insane.

"I'll tell you again, get the fuck out of my building. Move. Go to a new town. Leave, now." Nick was snarling, stepping closer to try and cage Dream in.

"You aren't stupid, Nick. We both know you aren't gonna do shit, now help me!" Dream had some kind of desperation in his voice, and it made Nick falter. He had taken a deep breath and stared at Dream for a few seconds before nodding and standing back. Nick didn’t think Dream was serious, but hearing his tone, he was definitely not joking.

"How can I help?" Nick was quieter, shy almost. He opened the door and waved Dream in. George was still fast asleep on the couch, so neither of them worried about him hearing or anything.

"We have a council— they watch. I cant stay away from him he's like... I'm _addicted_. If he finds out, I'm responsible for silencing him about it. And if they decide it's too unsafe, they'll silence him, forever. Human and vampire isn't allowed, they'll have his head. Mine too, probably."

"Okay so what do you want me to do? I don't understand how I can help your stupid vampire mating ritual thing."

"It's not a- whatever. You help, by not being a fucking dick. Your disgusting dog smell kind of cancels his out, so I don't... I'm not affected, as much I guess. If you smell a burger _and_ shit, the burger isn't appetizing anymore. Get it?" Dream gave a sarcastic smile, to which Nick smacked his arm.

"So, what, you wanna be my friend? Keep me around when you're with him?" Nick was fighting a scowl that tried to make its appearance on his face. He was really trying. Trying to actually befriend a vampire.

He would do anything he could to protect his friend. And even though he absolutely despised vampires, especially this one who had already bitten into George- he would agree. For George.

"I guess,"

"Only if it keeps you from sucking him- wait no- sucking- _oh my god_ you know what I mean."

Dream smiled and nodded, mouthing a thank you as George had began stirring awake.

"Dream? What are you doing here?" He sat up and stretched a bit, his eyes drooping from sleep.

"Just checking in." Dream and Nick exchanged glances, and Dream had soon made his way back to the door to leave.

"Wait wait wait! You didn't even say hi! You're pretty bad at checking in," George crossed his arms and pouted, looking to Nick for help.

Nick only scrunched his nose and left to his bedroom to leave the two alone. Not without peeking his head out every once in a while to make sure George was okay.

George swung his legs over so he was sitting normally, and patted next to him to invite Dream over.

Dream complied, but it was a bit slow and awkward. What does he say? George would probably ask about why he was able to crush a car, because that's insane. But he didn't. George only looked up at him with a grin that made him look like an idiot.

It was contagious, too, because Dream found himself smiling as well at the boy who was slowly leaning into his shoulder.

"Hey you." Dream whispered, earning a giggle from George.

"Hi."

"How are you feeling?"

George stayed quiet at that, studying the features on Dream's face for any clues to the phenomenon that had happened earlier in the day.

He averted his gaze and decided to not say anything. He could figure this out on his own. Nick didn't believe him clearly, despite saying he did. Because George sounded insane- no one can smash cars.

"George?"

"Sorry— yeah I- I'm doing okay. Thank you, for whatever..that was."

Dream nodded slowly, biting the inside of his cheek as he realized that George was definitely suspicious. Not good.

Maybe he could feel somewhat even now- take some blood, then save his life. It still didn't feel right.

"Do you guys wanna get dinner later? There's this place I've wanted to go to for a while," Dream tried to change the topic, put it on getting some food even though he couldn't exactly eat.

He wouldn't dare go alone with George with his newfound soulmate information, and Nick would have to agree if he wanted to actually help.

Something glinted in George's eyes, disappointment? Frustration? It was gone as soon as it came, and he nodded happily to the idea.

"I'm sure Nick would like that." Lie! George knew Nick wasn't fond of Dream. But if he begged with his big eyes, he wouldn't be able to resist.

They talked a bit more before Nick got tired of hiding in his room and forced Dream out of their apartment.

꧁ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ꧂

George sat with his lip stuck out and forced a few tears to sparkle in his eyes.

"Pleaseeeee! Come to dinner! I wanna go somewhere, and this guy is like- filthy rich!" George pleaded, his phone making a ding that read:

' _Make sure to dress nice'_  
  


"See! See!! It's a fancy place! You love steak and stuff, I bet they have a _tooooon_ of realllyyy good steak!" He was really just trying to convince Nick that he wanted to go because of the free fancy food, but George wanted to spend time with Dream. He didn't have many friends, besides Nick and some online friends, so the more people he could hangout with was the better. 

Truth is that Nick got annoying, he was actually quite annoying _all_ the time. Between his flirty jokes and constantly nagging him about getting out of the house, George just really needed some new friends.

He loved Nick with his whole heart and more, but living with his best friend definitely sounded a lot better when they were younger.

When Nick heard George say he actually wanted to go somewhere, he perked up and quickly agreed. The only time George ever really went out was to go for occasional runs in the morning, to college, and sometimes go to random bars to get laid when he was bored. College students are supposed to go out! Party, get drunk and do drugs or something. So Nick jumped at the opportunity to get George out, even though he was a bit opposed in the beginning.

"Okay, he said he'll pick us up at- in an hour! An hour! You have a suit? Get dressed hurry!" George scrambled off to his room and pulled a vest on over a white shirt, with black pants and sneakers. Dressing nice.. irked him. He liked to keep things a bit lazy and comfy, not itchy and tight.

He rolled the sleeves up messily, put a cute little brown bow tie on(which he thought was red), and ruffled his hair in the mirror.

He bounded out with a giddy smile, Nick making a face at him with a groan.

"Why do you look so happy? It's just dinner,"

"Because I'm excited! Fancy dinner!"

"Yeah whatever."

They linked arms and left the building, walking up to Dream's car and sliding in. Nick agreed to let George sit in front, not wanting to upset Dream with his whole.... obsession soulmate, thing.

"Hi again," George said with a giggle while he ran his fingers along the stitching of the leather seats,

Nick stayed quiet, just scrolling through Twitter in the back.

"Hey! Thanks for agreeing," he cleared his throat and looked at Nick through the rear view mirror, to a pair of eyes staring right back at him. Kinda creepy.

When they arrived, Dream quickly stepped out to catch a break from the overstimulating smells that would probably, unfortunately cling to his car for a while.

He was somewhat thankful for Nick, he was definitely keeping him from tearing into George right then and there.

They walked in, and Dream smiled to see George looking around with awe.

There were women in gowns, men in suits, chandeliers, a big fish tank that filled the middle of the room with led lights flashing into the different corals.

George held onto Dream's arm in fear of getting lost in the palace looking restaurant.

Dream pulled himself away and hissed at the slight warmth, and George had that pitiful look on his face again.

Then Dream felt bad, so he playfully pulled George back into his side and held a hand around his waist.

Nick rolled his eyes at the exchange, scoffing at the sick affection.

Once they were seated, George had leaned forward and squinted his eyes, laughing at the small mark poking out from Dream's shirt.

It was his smiley tattoo- right by his collarbone where he was bitten. Two little dots on the top where canines had sunk in, and the smile for the bottom part of the bite. The rest of the bite seemed to heal without scarring, so it didn't look like a scar at all with the tattoo.

He pulled his shirt over the mark and looked down with a red tint to his cheek, to which George laughed and waved his hand.

"Don't be embarrassed! I have a dumb tattoo too!" He lifted his chin and pointed to the skin right under his ear, a small '404'

Sapnap tilted his head to reveal a small flame in the same spot as George's,

"We were gonna get matching but I don't want a dumb ass error code on my neck." He said with a light laugh.

꧁ᴛᴀᴄᴄᴀ ᴄʜᴀɴᴛʀɪᴇʀɪ꧂

A waiter had came by and took orders, and it was actually going really well. Nick seemed like he was having a good time, which really surprised Dream.

Dream ordered a random piece of fish that he would give to patches when he got home. Just say he lost his appetite. Which wasn't really a lie, Nick made it awfully easy to tone out George.

You wouldn't believe how strong werewolves scents were. Smelled like a teenage boy's musty ass room. And piss.

And their blood was even worse, it tasted like moldy, squishy, rotten cheese. Yeah, he made the mistake of trying it once.

Nick did in fact get a steak, one of the most expensive ones because Dream said he was paying, and he thought it was quite funny.

Dream didn't mind, though. He was happy to pay for everything, he thought Nick was pretty cool when he wasn't trying to be intimidating.

Dream ate a bit so he wouldn't seem too suspicious, but his stomach couldn't hold it and he quickly excused himself to the bathroom.

When George was alone with Nick, he snuck a glance to him to try and see if he was okay, if he was enjoying the dinner— he was smiling, so George took that as a good thing.

"Are you doing okay? I know you don't really like him that much,"

"This is fun, I'm glad we came. He's not that bad, I guess."

And that wasn't a lie either, Nick had forgotten that Dream was a nasty blood sucker throughout the night, and just saw him as some guy that made some good jokes. They had played some question games to get to know each other more, and this just brought out the fact that Dream really was a person, maybe a dead person, but he was still just a person.

George smiled at that, hitting his friend's shoulder playfully. This was a good thing. Nick liked Dream, George liked Dream, they could all be friends.

It was a bit hard for George to get over what had happened, still. The small bruise on his neck was very much visible, and it was a bit embarrassing— walking around with this.. thing. But he also couldn't help but feel proud. He had gotten his very own mark, even if it was temporary and.. an accident. He didn't mind, because Dream was the one who did it.

There was something all vampires seemed to have, this charm that captivated humans. Their features had enhanced largely when they were successfully turned, and this just furthered their level of attraction.

Even if some vampires weren't considered as attractive as others— they still just, had something about them. Maybe in the way they spoke, their alluring eyes, how they wrapped themselves around the fingers of humans.

And it was no different for George. Nick was left unaffected. No werewolves liked vampires. They went on their land, attacked their pack, attacked humans. Sure they had made deals and stuff from time to time, but it usually wasn't the most pleasant experience.

So that was probably unfair, impairing George's full judgment of Dream and just automatically pulling him in. But they were soulmates for a reason, they had to be.

A part of Nick longed for his pack, yearned for his family to huddle close to when he felt exposed, but they weren't available. So perhaps he had just been reaching out, clinging onto anyone he could get in his grasp- and the recent victim was Dream. A vampire, someone who would never be able to come close to replacing his family. He was the opposite. Cold, hurtful, everything wolves weren't.

But deep down, in the core of his heart, he was grateful. There was a contrast to his usual branch of friends, for the better or for the worse was unknown, but he was more than willing to give it a shot.

For George's sake, as well. Dream reached out to him, asked for his help, and he would do everything he could in order to keep his best friend safe.

Seeing the fond smile and hearing the gentle tone when Dream was speaking to George lacked the malice you may have expected from a vampire looking for a meal. He was kind, soft and sweet for George. He made an effort to touch George as tenderly as possible, careful to not excite himself and hurt the boy that could easily be smashed by even a hug.

That was something Dream was absolutely horrified of. He could so easily destroy George, pull his hand too hard or hug him too roughly, every bone in his body could just snap.

So Nick had come to the conclusion that, maybe, Dream really did care. Maybe he truly didn't want to hurt George, maybe he could love George.

Dream had come back and sat at the table as the other's finished their food, he paid for their meal, and they left after a while longer.

His left hand rested against the middle console of the car while he drove them back to their apartment, and George had began staring at the pale fingers.

They were big. And smooth? No visible color in the veins, which looked kind of odd. 

Vampires on blood diets had blood in their bodies from the humans they drank from, but it was different once it entered their systems, colliding with their venom and stealing the nutrition so that other vampires can’t consume it. For Dream, he didn’t have the blood from humans, obviously. So the ‘blood’ in his body was just the clear coconut water mixed with venom.

George’s hand jerked against his side, wanting to reach out and slide his fingers against the marble skin. His hand looked cold from the paled skin, but they also looked warm. If that makes sense?

The clear veins were everywhere, his fingers weren’t too long, his hand was just big all around. He let himself wonder what it would feel like, to have them feel up along his waist, glide over his chest and-

“George, come on.” Nick interrupted his thoughts, pulling at his hair a bit to get his attention.

George was surprised, a bit ashamed that his mind went to that deep, ugly place buried in a box he hoped would be left unopened. He did _not_ want to think of Dream like that. They were friends, now. What happened— that was gone, it was a mistake between two drunken college students, whatever it even was that happened. George still didn’t know.

Yet he liked to think of being alone with Dream, maybe redoing what they’d done that night. Without being intoxicated.

George glanced to the back of the car, where Nick sat with his door opened, then back to Dream.

“Can I— stay? With you,” he mumbled shyly, hoping it didn’t come off as too forward. In honesty, he just wanted to spend more time with Dream. It didn’t matter if things happened to escalate, that would be a plus- but just talking to Dream, being in his presence, it was calming.

Dream nervously look to Nick, both of them conflicted on wether or not it would be okay. Nick knew that the idea was horrible. It was stupid and dumb and idiotic and every other similar word. Because without Nick, Dream could lose control at any moment.

Dream nodded slowly, reassuring Nick that it would be okay- he would be okay.

So Nick got out, said a goodbye to them both, and retreated into the building. This didn’t sound like a good idea, but he didn’t want to act weird and freak George out or anything. He would just.. text every so often to see how they were doing. Or not? He didn’t know if that would be creepy. Probably.

George covered himself with his arms feeling Dream’s eyes rake over him. Despite being fully clothed, he felt exposed; open to the bright green eyes that scanned over his small frame.

He kept his eyes on the car floor as Dream began to drive them to his house. Maybe this was a bad idea? George was regretting asking to come over, he still didn’t know Dream all that well. Sure they went out like, twice— and he was literally in Dream’s bed. But-

No, this was a good thing, he concluded. He would get to stay with the attractive, rich guy with the perfectly messy hair and the cute splatter of freckles across his nose. The guy that made good jokes and had a contagious laugh, the guy that had.. clear veins? And also sickeningly pale skin. The guy that somehow knew exactly where George was and crushed a car to save him? Who seemed to blink... never? No, no he’d definitely seen Dream blink. A few times. But who pays attention to people blinking? Maybe it was when George noticed the unnatural way Dream’s shoulders moved when he breathed, that he realized something was different. He didn’t know what, but he would find out.

For now, he would spend time with Dream. Get to know him more, get to know his... secret? Is that what it is? Maybe.

They got out of the car and walked up to Dream’s house, laughing at whatever they’d been talking about previously.

Dream’s nose was stinging again, squeezing his eyes shut every few minutes in hopes the smell would go away.

It needed to go away, it was bad again.

He thought he would be able to control himself, but now that Nick’s scent was gone and George’s was right there, it was worse than he thought it would be.

They fell down onto the couch and turned the tv onto some random show, but it ended up being drowned out when they began talking again.

“We need to talk about what happened, with the... the— car thing,” George put in the middle of their conversation, to which Dream shook his head.

“No we don’t. You saw what happened, that’s it.” Dream hoped the subject would be dropped, he didn’t have any excuses to make up.

George’s heart rate increased. It made things for Dream even worse, and he winced while the venom glazed over his teeth. He could once again, hear every single thing in George’s body.

“Dream, you... crushed that car!” George’s face was flushed and his hands were shaking lightly, not because he was afraid or anything. Maybe frustrated would be the right word, he just needed answers, and he wasn’t getting any.

“Stop talking about it! I don’t- I don’t-“ Dream trailed off as George had began leaning closer to him.

Dream’s eyes were widening and he was breathing George in, letting the scent envelop his senses and almost giving in to his thirst.

George was getting close, too close. He had looked into Dream’s eyes for hints as to who- _what_ he was.

Dream panicked and pushed George away, gentle enough to not hurt him, though it was rougher than intended.

His eyes were darting around the delicate skin peeking from George’s shirt, letting small trails of venom drip from his mouth. It looked like drool, gross.

He was biting down onto his lip to focus on not killing George, not noticing when he had reached down and grabbed onto Dream’s hand.

“Your hand is so cold,” George whispered, lifting it up and placing it against the mark on his neck, maybe as if to say _you did that_.

Dream pressed his thumb to the bite, rubbing along the bruise gently. It was fading, not as vibrant as the day before.

They’re quiet for a bit longer, Dream just staring at the bite to busy his mind from the instinct begging him to snap George’s neck.

“You need to leave. Please. Call Nick.” Dream pulled himself away and stood up, burying his face in his hands to shield the fragrance from hitting his nose.

“What?” George frowned, gripping his hand onto the fabric of the couch.

“What did I do?” His voice broke mid sentence, sending a painful pang through Dream’s chest.

_Protecting you! I’m protecting you!_

Dream wanted to yell at George, tell him to get out before he- before he killed him. Tell him that he wasn’t able to control himself.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Dream whispered, barely audible.

George was confused. It was showing on his face, too. But he complied, shakily pressing the call button on Nick’s contact.

They sat in a very uncomfortable silence while they awaited Nicks arrival, and when he was there, George stood up, pressed a quick kiss to Dream’s jaw, and left.

꧁ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ꧂

George didn’t talk to Nick when he got in the car, he was battling his thoughts, too focused to hear when his friend had been talking to him and asking what happened.

“He just, told me to leave.” George looked down, his eyes pricking with small warm tears.

Then it made sense to Nick. Dream must have had a hard time controlling himself- he was proud, that Dream had George call him to leave.

He put a hand on George’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Did anything happen? I’m sure he was just tired.”

George shook his head, rubbing his eyes in embarrassment.

“He pushed me away from him and then told me to leave! I don’t understand I— we.. god I hate men!” George was now more angry than sad, confused and upset and just. It didn’t make sense.

A ding sounded from George’s pocket, and he reluctantly took it out to read a text from Dream.

‘ _I got nervous, you make me nervous George. I’ll pick you up at 5:45 tomorrow, be ready.’_

George smiled down at the text, and although he was still upset, he couldn’t bring himself to decline.

So George and Nick went back to their apartment and played Minecraft together deep into the night, scolding themselves and fleeing to their beds when they realized just how late it had gotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We speedrunning this
> 
> Did you enjoy the cheesy scene where Dream crushes the car and saves George? Because I didn’t!


	3. Helleborus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets this name from the fact the flowers somewhat resemble a small single rose. The name hellebore comes from the Greek “elein” meaning to injure, and “bora” meaning food.

Three months had passed. Dream was distant, but kept a steady relationship with both George and Nick.

He'd taken George out a a few nights, but every single time, he had found himself holding the bottom of his shirt tightly into his hand to stop himself from grabbing George. He'd been able to control the thirst a lot better, he was just convinced that if he got too close, he would hurt George. He was scared.

Nick was better, too. Him and Dream were actually, pretty good friends now. It wasn't perfect, but they all hung out without too many problems. Nick was still overprotective of George, snapping at Dream whenever he'd get that blown look in his eye that just radiated how bad his thirst was.

And George.. he had been doing his research. Writing down everything he could, keeping his studies in a notebook under his bed.

Everything pointed to something that literally made no sense. It was completely impossible, and he felt stupid for even thinking it could have been a possibility.

College was going well, except for the night that George had called Dream crying about how he was stressed about a test and that the homework didn't make sense. So like the simp he is, Dream had gotten all of George's favorite snacks and brought them to him with a funny pair of clout goggles, made him some study cards, and maybe, possibly, helped him relax in a way that they silently agreed to not bring up the following day. (It's not what you think, get your head out of the gutter! They played a board game, and Dream actually lost. Dream never loses.)

Now, George was sitting alone in his room, with his door locked despite knowing nobody else was there. Nick had gone out with Dream to go to a store? Or something like that. It was 9 at night, so that seemed a bit odd. Whatever.

He sat with a few notebooks spread out on a small table, a lamp pointing down to the pencil writing that reflected the light.

He was trying to figure out what to do, about Dream. He'd done loads of research on his computer, with textbooks from multiple libraries, and everything concluded to the same thing.

Vampire. Dream was a vampire.

And George laughed, looking down at the underlined red text,

_Dream = vampire ???  
_

He grabbed a fistful of hair, whining at his 'discovery'. It was funny, he thought it was really funny. He'd gotten nowhere except a fantasy creature that didn't exist. What now, his best friend was a werewolf or something?

He continued giggling, humoring himself with the silly thoughts.

But the more he went on, comparing similarities and differences, the more his smile had faded into a worried frown.

If Dream was a vampire, he would have... killed George, already. It was a coincidence.

George had absolutely no idea what to do. He felt a searing shock jolt through his body, landing in his head and nestling to do its damage.

His mind was spinning, he'd pulled a hand to his temple and pinched, wishing away the painful migraine that had formed.

At that moment, George believed he may have been going insane. Everything about this was stupid, all the work he had been putting together on why his friend was so weird- led to nothing.

So maybe Dream was just a weird dude. Some random kid that had moved to Florida— and George was unfortunate enough to get into a complicated, twisted mess with him.

They had become more formal with each other- less stray touches, they didn't hangout unless Nick was there.

Dream had decided he was doing this, because George was his friend. And he wanted to protect his friend. It was nothing more than that— everything prior had been an absolutely irresponsible mistake, and he wanted to try his best to protect his _friend_.

And with that mindset, it was easier to do what he had to. Any feelings that may have bubbled up, were pushed down deep to his core, locked away with the reminder that only bad things could come.

And the feelings weren't often, mostly just little thoughts that's stabbed at the back of his eyelids while he laid in bed, trying to force an impossible slumber to come.

Little thoughts that put George's pretty face in his head, it was quite embarrassing when he really thought about it.

He was vulnerable around George, a drooling, hopeless, mess. And that was humiliating. He could almost feel the non-existent blush that begged to surface along his cheeks, but he was definitely thankful there was no blood to make that happen.

It's not like he could help it, George was his soulmate. That did something to him. And he hated it, because he didn't want to feel anything towards him. It felt wrong, so horribly wrong.

He wrote small notes, whenever he'd feel something. He plucked a small quill from a little chest, along with a jar of ink, and wrote his thoughts on paper. Then, he would close them away in his closet. He had written one every single day since he began having these thoughts.

He didn't miss the way George's face dropped whenever he would shift away awkwardly, that pained him too. It was instinct, he didn't want to hurt George.

If love potions were a thing, George's blood would be the main ingredient. Maybe that's a bad analogy, because his blood was nothing more than an almost irresistible meal—

George needed to plan something. No matter how stupid it was, at least he would be able to cross it off on the paper. He could hangout with Dream and somehow get him alone, which wasn't exactly ideal.

He could drop hints, examine Dream's face to see if his expressions changed at all. 

Vampires liked necks, right? That's what goes on in all the movies, they sink their fangs into a poor victims neck.

So George thought, maybe he could get close to Dream, try and expose his neck to him, see if anything happens then. The more he let the idea linger, the more intense his headache got.

So stupid.

He pulled his phone out, made plans with Dream(which was surprisingly easy, keeping in mind that they hadn't been alone for a few months), and he would be going over to his house- mansion- tomorrow evening for lunch.

Lunch. Lunch! Vampires don't eat, that's what he had read in a few articles— But he'd seen Dream eat before. He also knew that not everything online was sure to be accurate to real vampires. Well, if they were real.

As he laid in bed, he let little _what if_ 's fill his still-achy mind. It would be very honest, to say he wasn't a tad bit nervous, maybe frightened for the next day. Even though it sounded ridiculously stupid, there was a small part of him that possibly believed it could be true. He hadn't seen Dream a single time without his hood when they were outside— unless it was cloudy, maybe? Sometimes.

He didn't end up sleeping too much. He heard Nick come in his room and open his window, a breeze came through and ruffled the sheets ever so slightly. But he remained with his eyes closed, on the edge of tipping into a sleep.

What he didn't know, was that Nick was sound asleep in his bed.

-

George shot up from his bed with a gasp, clutching tightly onto his blanket and looking around. His dreams were plagued with possibilities of what could happen, if his friend was indeed a vampire. They weren't pleasant.

He took a deep breath, slid off the bed with a yawn, and dressed himself. He didn't realize at the time, but he had put on an extra layer of clothes. Just in case. Just in case? He wasn't afraid of Dream— or was he? He wasn't sure, now. What was there to be afraid of? The possibility of one of his best friends, being some kind of weird fantasy creature? That hunts humans for dinner? He only noticed when the air felt way too hot for comfort, and took the extra clothing off.

He told Nick that he would be with Dream, noticing how his friend's face paled slightly. He asked if he could go with, but George made a face and shook his head.

"I promise we aren't gonna do anything too fun without you. Just lunch."

To that, Nick nodded hesitantly and left George to go to his car. He wasn't the best at driving, being color blind and all. It was a big risk, he couldn't really tell when the light was green or yellow, and sometimes mixed it up when it was red, despite the light being slightly darker.

He sat in the driveway, his heart slamming wildly against his ribs. It wasn't exactly from fear now, he was excited. Excited to spend time with Dream, excited to get this out of the way so he can cross the stupid idea off his list.

So he walked up, knocked on the door, and immediately had two hands grabbing his waist and pulling him through the doorway.

(Dream's attempt at quickly getting George in so the sunlight couldn't shine down through the opening of the door, and it worked.)

George squealed in surprise and put his hands against Dream's chest with raised eyebrows, sneaking his eyes down to one of the hands that rested gently against his waist.

Dream had become acutely aware of the contact, hurrying to let go and laugh awkwardly.

"I got a lot sandwiches, I hope you like sandwiches..there's ham, Turkey, peanut butter, bacon, and- oh! Fruit, there's lots of fruit too. And I got cake. I didn't know what you would wan—"

"Dream, chill," George laughed quietly at the word vomit pouring from his friend's mouth. He seemed nervous. He noticed that, the closer Dream had gotten whenever Nick wasn't around, the more anxious he was. Between glances around the room, bouncing knees, trembling hands, and that stupid hand that covering his nose, he'd think Dream didn't even want to be around him.

"Im okay with anything. Thank you," George smiled up at Dream, putting a hand on his shoulder and softly pushing him towards the kitchen.

George knew where everything was in Dream's house, and there was a lot. It was the groups' main hangout spot, being the biggest place they could go with the best TV and stuff. Dream was oddly protective of his fridge though, they weren't allowed to go foraging for snacks alone. George found that a bit.. weird. Dream seemed to heave this weird coconut water obsession, it was like—he had to be drinking one every second of every day, never seen without one. That thought eased his mind. It's not blood. Well unless there was secretly blood in the bottles. That's insane.

They sat down at the cute little dining table that sat in the middle of a big room. It seemed way too small for the room. But it was perfect, he could be close to Dream without being right next to him.

There was a platter full of an array of sandwiches. Fancy sandwiches. It was kind of mind boggling how someone could make sandwiches look so pretty. Along with a ton of other food. Way too much for the two to eat.

They- well, George began eating, watching Dream with careful eyes from across the table. Dream looked quite distracted, he had his puzzled expression and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat every few seconds.

"Dream? You okay?"

"Perfectly," The words were shaky.

"Dream," George put his food down and frowned, propping his elbows on the table.

"You haven't even touched your food."

"Not hungry."

"Or is it because you can't eat it?"

Dream struggled to keep his face from falling, he looked up with widened eyes to see George looking back with a slightly tilted head and curious eyes.

They both stayed quiet after that, just staring at each other while George awaited an answer.

It didn't come.

꧁ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ꧂

_Fuck. Does he know?_

Dream shifted his eyes downward, plucking a strawberry from a plate and popping it in his mouth.

"What do you mean?" He finally questioned, chewing the fruit painfully slowly. He did have an appreciation for food, it tasted good when he was chewing, but as soon as it began going down his throat and dropped in his stomach, it felt heavy and unnatural.

He saw George bite into his lip and let out a frustrated sigh with furrowed brows. He seemed off. George looked.. weirdly concentrated. On what, he wasn't exactly sure- but he'd been watching Dream with close eyes, studying every time he made a move. It was a little freaky.

This didn't feel like a normal evening. Especially with that weird comment, it almost made Dream think that George somehow knew.

Dream ended up slapping a hand over his mouth, excusing himself while he quickly made way to the bathroom to cough up the foreign mush that clung uneasily to his insides.

When he returned, George had this look on his face, like he was suspicious. He stood up and walked towards Dream before he could sit back down, and crossed his arms with a frown.

"Yes?" Dream raised an eyebrow, trying to move past so he could sit, but George only put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"I.." George thought hard, sliding his hand down Dream's chest until it fell back down to his side. What could he do? He hadn't thought this part out. He glanced down at the ground while he tried to figure something out without looking too weird.

Dream sensed his slight frustration and let him think. He looked down at George, allowing his eyes to look over his friend's features once again. He looked nice, he always did. His soft, full lips were probably his favorite, the way they parted slightly, accompanied by a little noise whenever he was interested in something swelled his cold heart.

And then George's heart beat was flooding his ears, the blood pounding through his head as it grew faster and faster.

"George what's wrong?" Dream asked quietly; bringing a hand up to rest on his shoulder.

George was looking up at Dream and taking in shaky breaths, starting to freak himself out with thoughts of what could happen- he felt stupid, humiliated by the tears that welled in the corners of his eyes.

"Dream are you—" George swallowed, laughing hollowly while he brought a hand to drag across his face.

George wasn't the only one freaking out. Dream's eyes were widened again, wondering if George had found out. Maybe he was going to say something else? But he didn't feel like finding out, so he turned, and just walked away. Anywhere to get away and think. A weak attempt.

He was being followed closely, George making a small gasping noise when he had left.

"Dream!" He called in a hushed shout, realizing he may have just gotten his answer.

But Dream kept going, sinking down into the couch and turning the tv on. Maybe that's rude, but he didn't really care. Ignore anything else George said that could be related to.. whatever was happening.

George sat next to him with an exasperated huff. This is not how he expected the day to go. Maybe it was in his head.

"What were you going to say?" Dream asked calmly, looking ahead to the random show that had turned on. He wanted to know, if it was really what he was thinking. _Maybe, it was in his head._

The tone scared George. So he kept quiet, picking at a loose thread on his sweater.

"Just.. I was going to ask, are you feeling alright. You didn't eat much and.. I heard you- in the bathroom," His lie was obvious, it was always obvious when George lied. His heart rate and breathing sped up.

"You're lying."

George gulped. It felt like his throat had closed up, his leg twitched, and he had to place a hand on it to stop it from moving.

Dream turned with a frown, sensing the anxiousness from the sudden jump in his pulse again.

But before Dream had a chance to speak, George acted.

He had thought of something, to test if it was true—

He pulled himself closer to Dream and hugged him, so that Dream's head was resting in the crook of his neck. It seemed like a coincidence, but it wasn't. He closed his eyes, waiting for a sign. It felt odd. Their bodies were pressed close, yet no heat radiated from Dream. His chest wasn't moving.

Dream sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, more like just a hissing sound, since breathing was unnecessary.

He didn't dare move, not an inch. His fist was clenched tight, he was sure to break George's fragile bones if he so much moved the wrong way in this position.

George's arms were wrapped around him, one resting against the back of Dream's head to keep his face stuffed close to his neck.

He was stiff. Very, very stiff. And scared, his senses were being overloaded with the sweet scent of George's pumping blood, right under his nose with the skin almost pressing to his lips.

He wanted to bite down, so horribly bad. But... he also didn't. He couldn't. Because George is important, George is his soulmate.

"George let me go." Dream said through gritted teeth, closing his eyes to concentrate on staying completely still.

"No."

This only made George press closer, the side of his throat against Dream's mouth. He wasn't scared, anymore. Because Dream obviously didn't want to hurt him. He now knew his stupid prediction was false. He was sure that Dream would have killed him by this point.

"George please," Dream whispered desperately, his eyes still screwed shut. It was pitiful, how weak he was right now. How weak he was for this stupid boy who seemed to have the death wish of the century.

But he didn't know, he didn't know that if Dream were to move his shoulders at all— that his arms would snap with a disgusting crack of bone. That his neck would break in half if Dream tilted his head ever so slightly. He didn't know that Dream wasn't able to control his strength right now, that the smell of his blood was just too powerful. He didn't know.

"Why? Why won't you hug me back? Am I that bad? Is that why you always say you can't hangout with me if Nick isn't there?"

Dream's heart shattered at this, because although George's tone didn't seem sad or upset, he knew he really was. And he never wanted to hurt George.

"That's not it." He breathed out, sending a small shiver up George's spine. It hurt, the scent burned through his body and stung his throat. He was swallowing cotton, inhaling flames, his cold lips were burning against George's warm skin.

And he began losing control.

He'd opened his mouth and hovered his teeth over the skin, his eyes half lidded and lazy. He wanted to burst forward, sink his teeth as deep as he could, rip muscle, tear through the artery, leave George screaming under his grasp while he drained every single drop of blood from his small body. All while he snapped every limb under the weight of his own body. It seemed perfect, so easy.

He heard a small noise from George as he nipped softly at his neck, bringing him back from his fantasy.

George was fucking terrified now. It was just a nibble, it didn't hurt or anything. It tickled. But he was expecting a bite, and he got one. Sure it was small, and wasn't even close to breaking skin, but it still happened.

"I don't want to hurt you," Dream said softly, wincing at his previous thought. He felt like.. an animal. A murderous, vile animal. It was repulsing now, the thought of George being in pain. Crazy how his mindset had shifted so easily once he heard the frightened whimper come from the frail boy.

What would George think? If he knew that he was Dream's soulmate. His promised soul, his dormant heart's only desire. Maybe he would be disgusted, maybe he would laugh and wish a farewell— never to see Dream again. Maybe, he would grin and leap into Dream's arms happily while they shared a gentle, love-filled kiss. But that only happened in fairytales, and this was a nightmare. One where George was bound to be hurt, and Dream was left to rot with the Incapability to love.

These were the thoughts that rung through his head, the ones that he tried to lock up where they wouldn't have the chance to resurface. Because it wasn't a possibility to love George, it would end in utter heartbreak and death. The kind of heartbreak that leaves even the dead, gasping for air. The kind of death that's permanent.

"You aren't hurting me," George put his nose in Dream's unruly mane of blonde hair, breathing in the floral scent of shampoo. He almost laughed, picturing Dream going to a bathing shop and picking out a delicate, feminine wash. It was a comforting distraction.

"But I could." Dream was gaining control again, just taking his time to focus on every single part of them that made contact. The hand against the back of his head, the arm wrapped around his torso, their chests pressed together tightly, his nose settled into George's neck. Being caught up in the tense thought of staying solid to not hurt George, was lifted and he had slowly brought his arms around George as well.

 _Slowly_.

"Tell me how you could hurt me," George mumbled into the hair, bringing the hand that rested on Dream's head up slightly, to play with a bit of the longer tufts.

It probably wasn't meant to be an intimate question, but it sure felt like it. Dream chuckled lightly into George's neck, carefully shaking his head.

"Scratches," He began.

"Bites,"

"Bruises."

George's mind flashed back to when they had first met— the mark that lingered on his neck, the bruise. Or was it a bite, he wondered.

A deep tint of red flew across his face, to the tips of his ears, the back of his neck.

"Everything, is all for you." Dream whispered again, after a few moments of silence. He didn't expect George to understand what he meant- but everything, it was all for George. He was staying for George, protecting George, helping George. But he didn't feel good about it, because it was all his fault to begin with.

If Dream just left it alone, left the city, left the country even, returned back to his friends, he wouldn't have to be protecting George at all. But that was hard. Every time the thought of leaving crossed his mind, it's like something had grabbed him and reminded him of every single thing that could damage George. And he needed to protect him, from everything he could. George was his purpose, everything he'd been living for— it was all coming together. George was born to be Dream's soulmate. After years, and years of waiting, Dream found him, George was born for him.

George was fairly certain, that what he was thinking, was true. Dream was indeed a.. vampire. Maybe. Right? He had to be. Vampires had to be real. This felt unreal.

He sat there trying to decipher the simple words with a furrow of his eyebrows.

"What?"

He was met with no answer.

They stayed in a tight embrace, Dream taking in every ounce of warmth that he could.

As the time slowly passed, they knew all good things eventually had to come to an end. George tried to pull away, but he was only held onto tighter with an impossibly strong grip that disabled his ability to leave.

"Dream we can't just.. stay here" he said this with a smile, trying to hide the wince from Dream's nails digging into his skin even through his sweater.

"Why not? You're warm," This was weird, because Dream was anything but warm. Yet George holding him there, he felt cozy. The liquid in his veins felt a little less icy. He wouldn't mind if they had been damned to stay in that position for eternity.

"And you're.. why are you so cold?"

Dream didn't respond to that, only let go of George and pulled away.

George had to know. He knew. Dream thought he had been so careful, maybe that incident with the car had made him more observant, maybe he caught onto the little things.

Why would George have hugged him like that, if he knew Dream was a vampire? That part didn't make sense, it was just stupid. Unless he wanted to be bitten. What if he wanted it? He couldn't have known about the venom, for all he knew, it could be extremely painful.

Thinking about this, thinking about the possibility of George _wanting it_ , the blood was once again branding down his throat. He impulsively reached up and grabbed onto George's shoulders, surging forward and pushing him down against the couch.

He was doing so good.

And now..

It was too much.

George's eyes were wide and his ears were ringing— his body begging him to do something, to try and push Dream away and run- anything to protect himself. But he couldn't. Arms were pushing him into the couch with a force too strong to move. And maybe, a part of him didn't want to.

Dream was hovering over top, drooling venom down onto George's sweater. His eyes were crazed and bolting around to find a good place to bite, a good place to tear into that would shoot the most blood out.

He wished so badly that Nick was there to calm him down. Fill him with the disgusting must that would immediately take his thirst away. The pain was almost unbearable. Dream didn't feel much of anything physical, but when it came to thirst, it was absolutely horrid.

George looked scared, he had to be scared right now. Unlike before, it didn't pull him out, it made it even worse. He was feeding off of the frightened eyes that frantically scanned around.

"You're hurting me," George said quietly, his voice broken and crackly. He wiggled his shoulders to try and free the deathly grip that held them hard into the now-uncomfortable cushion, to no avail.

Dream faltered slightly at this.

"I'm hurting you?" He let his hold soften, but still kept it strong enough to keep George in place. His eyes were dark, there was this hungry look on his face that made George shiver.

Dream had a crinkle in his forehead while he stared down with his mouth slightly ajar. There was no fangs, vampires had fangs, so Dream wasn't a vampire. That's how it works, no fangs, no vampire. It had to be. He switched through this thought often. Was he or was he not? It's not like he could just straight up ask, that'd be weird and awkward if he wasn't. Dream would think he was insane.

So if he wasn't trying to kill George— this moment was.. private, personal. Amorous. Those two shouldn't have been mixed up. Murderous intent, and lust.

George seemed more embarrassed than scared now, he was blushing and averting his eyes, panting _just a bit_ , with quick rises and falls of his chest. His heart was still beating quickly, a little too quickly than was probably healthy.

He wanted to be touched, feel Dream's hand on his face or brush against his arm, he wanted to be touched in a way that didn't send shots of pain through his body. He didn't want hands pressing hard in between the bones of his shoulders, he wanted hands stroking his cheeks or maybe playing with his hair.

Possibly, hands roaming up and down his sides, or squeezing onto his soft thighs.

And Dream must have sensed this, because he brought one of the hands up and put his thumb against George's bottom lip, swiping it across the soft pink flesh with an annoying smugness on his face.

George sighed in relief at the pressure release on his shoulder, relaxing more into the couch and letting Dream have his way with him. This is _definitely_ not what he planned for today.

"Tell me what you want," Dream whispered with another spill of liquid pooling down and ruining George's sweater. He didn't really care what George wanted. He would work up to it, and then bite. Maybe not as violently as he wished, but enough to just get more blood. He needed it.

"Bite me."

He looked down with knitted brows, to which George repeated himself with a smaller voice.

"Bite me..?"

Dream's eyes seemed to sparkle at that moment, had he just been given permission? That meant George knew. How did he know? He should have felt panicked, but he couldn't. Not now, he had just been asked to bite.

"What?" He laughed, pushing away from George a bit.

He just had to act confused. Act confused and try to deny everything if George asked about it. But.. he _was_ confused, so that wasn’t too hard.

The words shocked him, shocked him out of the thirst and into a serious confusion.

_How could George have known?_

_Maybe he was joking._

George pulled himself up to slide his back against the arm of the couch, away from Dream. His face was red again, in frustration and discomfort. Embarrassment, too. He just told Dream to bite him— and he didn't get the right reaction. Had he just ruined things?

"I was joking,"

Dream's shoulders relaxed and he nodded while the two of them fell into a fit of giggles. Thank god.

It was a bit awkward now. The air was tense and thick, Dream was a bit skeptical. Why would George bring that up? It felt like a little more than a coincidence. Dream was about to lose control, he was dripping with venom, on top of George ready to attack him. And then he said that.

George wasn't sure what to think. He'd gone back and fourth, but his final answer may have been that Dream really wasn't a vampire. There were signs, a lot of things that hinted to what everything online said, but there's no way. It sounded insane to begin with. He felt stupid, crazy even.

The moment they just had together, Dream was drooling down onto his sweatshirt, and it should have been dried, but it wasn't. It looked like the fibers were.. melting? There were small holes where the wet spots were.

Dream noticed that George was looking at the sweater and slowly grabbed his chin, trying to divert his attention.

George was a bit shaken up— but looking back, it was just his mind scaring him, because of what he had originally gone there to do, what he had wanted to figure out. Everything in his notebooks, all the books and articles he'd been reading the past few months, he was just tricking himself into freaking out. But in reality, they just... had a moment. An inappropriate moment that George really just wanted to forget. It was wonderful, thrilling at the time, but the after thoughts— not good. And he was certain that Dream was regretting it, too.

"Hey," Dream sighed and faced towards the tv where one of the Twilight movies played quietly, how ironic.

"I know, I know. We can forget this happened." George finished for him, rubbing his arm to try and comfort himself. He wanted to go home now, this was just pathetic. But when he glanced over to Dream, his head was dropped in his hands and he was frowning.

"Yeah."

꧁ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ꧂

George sat in the parking lot to his apartment. He had left Dream's house 4 hours ago, but didn't bother getting out of his car once he arrived back home. There was too much to think about—

Like how he actually enjoyed what happened, how every touch was the opposite of what he had expected. Cold, which you'd imagine to be pretty uncomfortable, but it wasn't. How they sat and held each other, even if it was sudden and under weird circumstances. How Dream didn't eat, how his..drool? Ruined the sweater he was wearing. He looked down, and the fabric still had a dark patch with holes. Barely visible, but they were there.

He traced over his shoulders, where small purple bruises ignited his skin. They were hot to the touch, the bones underneath the marks were painful as well. Perfect. Dream didn't mean to hurt him. He wouldn't do that. If his intentions were malicious, he would have shown it by now. There were so many openings, times Dream could have hurt him, but he didn't.

So George trusted Dream. He would just have to ignore what happened today, erase it from his mind to keep any further emotions from popping up. That would be challenging. These deep bruises didn't seem like they would be going away any time soon.

He heard his phone ring a few times in the hours he'd been sitting there, but he didn't really bother to check it. Whoever it was, could wait. There was important thinking being done.

He didn't have a very good sense of time, either. He was so caught up in staring off into the sky through his window, reflecting what had happened, contemplating what to do, convincing himself that he was crazy for thinking vampires could have even been real- that he didn't notice how long he was sitting there until darkness enveloped his car, only accompanied by the faded lamppost hanging over him.

A knock on the window startled George out of his daze and he briskly turned his head, seeing Nick standing right there with a pissed off expression.

He rolled the window down, craning his head out with a tired smile,

"Hey?"

"Where have you been?" Nick sounded exhausted. It was pretty late, so that kind of made sense.. but their schedules were equally as screwed, and George felt fine.

"Sitting here."

"Why? Come inside, please."

George scrunched his nose and leaned back in his seat. His legs were a bit sore, maybe it was a good idea. So he nodded, turned the car off, and they went into their apartment.

Nick seemed to be extra clingy, more affectionate than usual. He hung around George's side and asked him about how it went, why he was out so late, why the fuck he didn't answer his phone—

It was a bit weird. And getting annoying, fast.

"Did anything happen?"

George pulled his eyebrows together and looked at his friend questioningly.  
  


"No?"

"You seem upset."

"I'm not,"

Sensing the slight strain in George's voice, Nick decided it was best not to press.

"Wanna watch Moana..?"

George let out a small laugh at this and nodded, fitting himself on the couch with a buh blanket shared between the two.

He needed this, after today. Just relax, no worries about folklore creatures stabbing their teeth into him. They were fake, anyways. Maybe he could talk to Nick about it. Bring up how he thinks Dream is hiding something— surely he had to have noticed, too. But he could cross that stupid vampire scribble off the list, because obviously it wasn't that.

"Nick? I think Dream's hiding something."

He blurted in the middle of the movie, he hadn't been paying too much attention anyways. Lost in thoughts once again.

"What? Why?"

George frowned and curled his fingers tightly around a corner of the blanket. He caught how Nick's face slightly paled and how his jaw clenched.

"I know you've seen it too," The movie was paused now,

"I.. don't know what you're talking about." Nick tried to put on a puzzled face, but he was freaking out a bit inside. George figured something out, he knew something was off, and that was bad.

It _could_ be bad.

"Nick.." George huffed out and sat up a bit straighter to face his friend.

"Something did happen. Kind of..? Maybe it's just in my head I don't know I—"

"Tell me what happened," Nick had to be careful. But something happened, something that must have made George question Dream.

George pulled his shirt down below his shoulders to reveal the big bruises on both sides, and Nick had gasped and reached forward to put a hand against one of them.

"Holy shit George they're burning! Did he hurt you? He did this?" He looked furious now, carefully poking at the marks to feel the intense heat radiating off of them. Bruises weren't supposed to do that, not normal ones anyways.

"He didn't mean to, we.." George gnawed on the inside of his cheek, not sure how to finish the sentence. What did they do? They didn't do... anything.

But Nick seemed to understand, making an 'o' with his mouth. Dream should have known better.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him."

"What? No! No- no, it's fine they dont even hurt I just, he was being weird. He wasn't.. Dream?"

"How?"

"I don't know! He just wasn't."

George realized how stupid he probably sounded, he couldn't even give an explanation. Then he remembered his sweater, he wiggled the fabric out from under the blanket and held it up, a few patches of the sweater stained a darker color.

"He did this..?"

"Ew George! What the fuck!" Nick looked away with a reddened face, making a fake gagging noise.

"Oh my god no- it's not...we didn't- no! Nick! It's- its not cu- it's drool!" Now George was blushing as well, stuffing his sweater back down and hiding it with the blanket.

Nick understood now, it was venom. So that meant Dream was close to biting.. or he did bite. The two would sometimes go out and talk, about their lifestyle and family, try and understand each other better, try and help each other. So he knew a lot about Dream, he knew that his mouth secreted a venom when his thirst was bad. The bruises also made sense, Dream must have been gripping him pretty hard. He said that strength was hard to control when he was thirsty.

He tried not to show the worry that flooded through him, he wasn't sure how he could ask if Dream bit George without.. just straight up asking. And that's a weird fucking question.

"Did he hurt you anywhere else?" 

George slowly shook his head, which relieved Nick a bit. At least he wasn't bitten or anything.

"What else happened? Sorry if it's awkward but- details..?"

George knew Nick was only trying to help, try to figure out what George meant.

"We ate, well I ate. He ate a strawberry and then went to the bathroom.. but I heard him throwing up. Then we ...hugged? I guess. And then.." George smiled nervously and shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.

He decided to leave out a lot of the details, unlike what Nick had asked for in the first place, so they didn't really get anywhere.

You wouldn't believe how weird it is to talk to your friend about this shit. It probably shouldn't have been weird. Guys talk about this all the time, right? But he felt like it was an intrusion to his and Dream's private moment, it was their secret. Maybe he didn't want to be judged, maybe he felt like Nick wouldn't accept him. Which didn't make sense, because Nick knew that he liked dudes. But Dream was both of their friends, and George hadn't even had a real first kiss. Just sex on dirty bathroom floors every once In a while to fulfill his boredom. So it felt different. Because this time, he actually felt something when they touched.

Nick explained this to Dream on one of their nightly walks, that George had never been in a relationship or had his first kiss. That made Dream feel like absolute shit, because he had taken that from George and he didn't even know. He took his kiss when George was drunk. It was so casual, it needed to be special and it wasn't. So Dream didn't tell Nick that he did in fact kiss George. He could keep that to himself, nobody needed to know.

When George was finished with telling Nick everything that made him believe something was going on, Nick was frozen and unable to think of an excuse for anything. Holy fuck his friend was observant. From the way Dream breathed in a way-too unnatural way, his weird veins, how he'd only been seen eating a handful of times— his weird.. spit drool, his scarily powerful strength, to how he acted so much differently around George when Nick wasn't around. He listed these things off easily, as if he'd recited it previously.

And he did, in a way. He went over all the bullet points and charts in his notebooks, all filled with these strange happenings, so often that it was drilled into his head at this point.

"Nick? Say something,"

"Uhh, you're observant..?"

George sighed and threw his hands up.

"But those are all weird! Those are weird, right? Am I going insane?" He rubbed a hand on his face and dragged it up to rake through his hair, becoming frustrated with his friend's misunderstanding of what he was saying.

"I mean I guess they're a bit weird, but Dream is just an odd person. I mean can you blame him? His whole fami-" Nick cut himself off before he could finish. He _definitely_ wasn't about to completely sell Dream out. It was getting late, he couldn't think as well as he needed to be.

"His what?"

Nick slipped up, and trying to cover it now would look suspicious, wouldn't it?

"His..he misses his family, a lot?" 

George narrowed his eyes, making a small scoffing noise while he looked away from his friend.

Unbelievable.

"You know something, don't you?"

Nick winced and curled in on himself a bit. He definitely wasn't good at lying. Maybe to others he was okay, but to his best friend? They didn't usually lie to each other, it felt illegal.

For a moment, Nick really did contemplate telling George. But a vampire was certainly nowhere near to what George thought Dream's secret was— so maybe he'd think he was insane.

"George, I love you. A lot. So please, for your sake, just stay out of it. Everything is fine."

George sucked in a breath, his forehead creasing slightly at the seriousness in Nick's voice. This sounded important, no way he could leave it alone now.

"I've- I've been trying.. to figure this stupid thing out for months! And you know what it is?"

"Dude, leave it be." Nick warned with a slight growl, looking away to try and keep himself from getting too upset at the situation. It wasn't often that he got mad at his friend— but when he did, it was hard to control. Anger issues, maybe. He wasn't that old, only 19. He'd only figured out he was a werewolf.. 4 years ago? He still wasn't in full control, he had left for college too soon. His pack couldn't teach him everything. Getting upset could force a change, and that was something he was absolutely horrified of.

So he took a deep breath, steadied himself against the couch, and pressed play on the tv.

George eyed Nick carefully, forfeiting the conversation with a quiet sigh.

_I'm going to figure this out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I’ve decided. I’m gonna update every Friday, maybe some in between if I write faster
> 
> Idk where I’m going with this I just want George to know already so they can kiss and be together forever and be happy or or or the council to find out and kill them or whatever -.- 
> 
> I’m so impatient. anyways,  
> Comment any suggestions, comments give me motivation to continue :D


	4. Viola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violets are most commonly associated with love. They can symbolize innocence, modesty, and true, everlasting love.

Dream knew he fucked up. Or— he fucked himself? Maybe it was his fault. He definitely thought it was his fault.

He hadn't talked to George the past week, he completely ignored all texts and calls from him and Nick. A few very aggressive texts were sent by Nick, which was pretty damn scary. He still had college, and George was _still_ in his classes.

But he didn't talk to him, he would simply move seats or put headphones in if George tried to get his attention, and eventually the boy had given up.

Dream knew he fucked up, because either George knew about him, or George knew about his..feelings. And what was even worse, was that not once did George try and stop him from what he had tried to do. And that had to mean something, it had to.

So, he figured that if he showed he was uninterested, it would fix things and just, poof away everything that happened. It was painful, having to ignore George; see the discouraged look on his face and hear the saddened sighs whenever he would try to interact with Dream.

He wanted so badly to turn and just talk to George, tell him he was sorry for acting so horribly towards him. Because it wasn't fair, at all. They had a intimate moment, George let himself be vulnerable in front of Dream, and Dream just immediately pushed him away and refused to acknowledge him.

He was sitting in his second class, George right next to him. George had muttered a good morning and tried to ask about his day, but Dream had like usual, turned away and began reading a book pulled from his bag.

Classes were going easy, for Dream at least. George would frown in bewilderment down to the text in his books, stare at his work without an idea of what to do. It wasn't like that before, they had both been doing extremely well.

Dream wondered.. if he had something to do with it. It was possible, he was certain he had impacted George. He received daily texts from Nick telling him that he's a "fucking whore slut ass bitch", along with a string of pleads for him to talk to either of them and that he didn't mean it. They'd tried to go to his house even, but Dream refused to answer.

So then, all classes were over, and Dream sped out to go hide in his house like usual. He knew he had to talk to George eventually, but he had no idea what he could say. George would be infuriated with Dream, he knew that as well. The longer he waited, the more angry he would be. He needed to figure out what to say.

And when he did speak with him, Nick would definitely need to be there. If he wanted to speak to Nick, George would need to be there as well. Because he was scared of what he could do to George, and honestly, scared of what Nick could do to him. So he wouldn't dare to anything with George around.

The thought of having to talk to them filled him with dread, he _really_ did _not_ want to.

Maybe he didn't have to, he could just stay there, protect George whenever he got that weird feeling, and make new friends. 

maybe not.

for now, he just settled into his couch and let a show play idly in the background of his thinking. Accompanied by another text from Nick, of course. He looked down at it, furrowing his brows at the text.

_I'm coming over. Unlock the door or I'm breaking it down_

Dream grumbled and sunk further into the couch. Nick wouldn't do that. Actually, he most certainly would. Still, Dream stayed unmoving.

And soon, a knock came to the door. Another knock, with a shout.

"Last chance, Dream! Answer the fucking door!"

And before he could even get to the door, it was kicked open, and in sauntered Nick.

"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" Nick hissed with a scowl. He had this weird smile on his face that sent alarms through Dream, telling him to protect himself or try and get out of there.

He looked Nick up and down, eyeing his feet and hands carefully to figure out what he was going to do.

He wasn't too worried, he could move a lot faster than Nick. A lot faster. Unless he was in his... other form. He learned that Nick was pretty damn fast, not quite fast enough, but fast.

"Do you know how torn up he is?"

"He thinks you hate him,"

"Do you hate him? You must hate him. He told me what you did, he thought you may have actually _liked_ him,"

Nick said these all without giving Dream the chance to get anything out in between, slowly inching closer.

Dream chewed on his lip. He wanted to just— scream, how horrible he felt and how badly he wanted to talk to George. But he didn't get the chance. He got distracted, let his guard drop, and Nick was now on top of him, he had jumped and transformed into an inky black wolf with burning orange eyes. Dream could have pushed him off. He could have, but he didn't, because he knew he deserved whatever was coming.

So he let Nick growl in his face, drip spit down his cheeks, let his disgusting breath burn through his nose in an almost painful intensity.

Nick was unsatisfied with the lack of response, so he turned and clamped his teeth down into Dream's shoulder, biting down until he hit bone with a god awful scraping noise.

Dream pulled a hand free from Nick's grip and held it over his mouth, muffling a distressed scream from the pressure stabbing at his shoulder. Although the pain was almost nothing compared to what it would be if he was human, it still hurt like shit.

Nick snapped his teeth out and went for the other shoulder, latching into the flesh and achieving another cry from Dream.

"How does it feel?"

Nick was doing this, to replicate the marks Dream had put into George's shoulders. But much, much worse, because it's what he deserved. Or maybe Nick was just way too upset.

He ground his canines against the bone, cracking the clavicle with a crunch. Dream threw his head back with a wail ripping through his throat, echoing throughout the room.

"Okay stop! Stop! Fucking dog!" Dream winced at the stinging in wounds, kicking at Nick and throwing him down into the floor.

Nick slid across the floor with a whine, quickly scrambling up and backing away from Dream, who now stood up with hands pressed firmly to his already-healing bites. Fuck did they hurt.

Nick was sure his ribs were bruised from being thrown against the floor, white hot flashes began shooting through his vision.

"Look, I'm sorry I've ignored you guys, but stop trying to come at me before you get your back broken. You seriously are just a dumb dog."

This only called for another quiet groan from Nick while he pushed himself up against the wall to try and get up.

"Did I hurt you bad? I'm sorry, Nick, I didn't mean to," Dream frowned and slowly walked towards his.. friend? Could he even call him a friend? He threaded a hand through the thick, jet black fur behind Nick's ear and scratched lightly, surprised that he hadn't pulled away.

What Dream hadn't expected, was for Nick to whip his head up and dig his teeth back into the hand that reached up to pet him. His teeth tore through a tendon, with one of his fangs digging straight through and coming out of the other side. With Dream's free hand, he wound it up and smashed into the side of Nick's snout, ripping the teeth out of his hand with a squirt of liquid.

Nick didn't have the ability to heal as quickly as Dream did, he knew that. So he didn't want to hurt Nick badly. He had to protect himself though, and Nick didn't seem to want to give up. He jumped at Dream again, pinning him down to the ground with his full body weight and putting his jaw around the blond's throat. He wanted to bite down, he could rip Dream's head off right there and everything would be over with.

But instead, he lightly bit underneath Dream's jaw and pulled him back up so they were both standing.

They'd gotten whatever they needed to out. Their frustration for each other, for George, put into bites and punches. They were huffing and panting, leaning against each other, eventually sliding back down onto the floor. Nick's head laid in Dream's lap while they just rested in a comfortable silence, Dream still pulling fingers through fur and occasionally awing at the cute noises the wolf would make when he pet the right spot. It didn't hurt nearly as bad anymore, as his wounds had already began closing up and disinfecting themselves.

After they calmed down, Dream had pulled his hoodie off and draped it over Nick, which only really covered one of his back legs. An invitation for him to change back whenever he wanted.

So Nick looked up to Dream, flattening his ears against the back of his head with embarrassment.

Dream took the hint and looked away while Nick hurried to change back and pull the hoodie over to cover himself.

"I'll talk to George. I'm just, scared." He sighed, pulling a hand through messy blond hair.

"Thank you,"

"There's more clothes in the closet over there, grab whatever you want,"

-

Nick had gone back home a while after that, after they talked a bit more. Dream didn't talk about why he ignored them, he felt gross with himself. Guilty, afraid maybe.

He said he would talk to George, but he still couldn't figure out what he would say. And now, he was back in class the next day. With George next to him. Again.

He said another quiet hi, met with no answer. Dream couldn't bring himself to talk to him, not yet.

And George looked like he was ready to burst, nervously eyeing Dream and tapping his leg, opening his mouth a few times as if he wanted to say something. But he didnt. And as soon as the class was over, Dream hurriedly scrambled up to try and leave, only to be grabbed by his sleeve and pulled back down into the seat with two firms hands now holding onto his wrists.

"Dream! I cant- why are you doing this?" The evident sorrow in his voice shot a burst of heat through Dream's throat, begging him to apologize and comfort him.

"You have to answer me! I'm not letting you go, until you talk to me! Please, Dream! _Please_ "

Dream could have easily ripped his hands away and left, George wasn't even holding onto him tightly in the slightest.

He looked at George and gulped, noticing the small dark circles under his eyes that pleaded rest. He'd done enough, he can just tell George he isn't interested. They could go back to being friends.

If only.

"What do you want?" He hissed, yanking his wrists away and resting them on the sides of his chair. That's not what he meant to do. He wasn’t thinking on his actions.

George laughed in disbelief, digging his nails into his pants to try and keep himself from slapping the fucking idiot in front of him.

"You- are such a fucking twat, you know that?"

Hmm, something very similar came from Nick just yesterday.

"I thought— I thought you- you-!! You.. I can't believe you!" The poor boy looked like he was about to cry, his voice faded into a whisper towards the end of his words.

"You can't just do _that_ to me and then— refuse to talk to me! Do you know how shitty that is?"

Everyone else in the room was gone, besides the professor who eyed them, debating whether or not he should tell the two to leave. They still had another class, but that wasn't exactly a worry right now.

"George I wanted t-"

"No you— god! I hate you! You and your weird... piss yellow eyes! And your stupid pretty hair, I hate you!"

George scoffed and threw his hands in the air.

"Did you even look at my texts? I called you! Nick called you too! We- we came over, and.. and-"

He had tears threatening to spill, but he had looked up at the ceiling and fanned at his face to try and force them away, taking a gasp of air after his ramble.

"Are you going to let me talk?" Dream asked quietly, throwing an apologetic glance to the older man that awkwardly stood near his desk.

George nodded, wiping at his face with shaky hands.

"Nick came over, we talked."

_And we beat each other, the fucker cracked my damn bone in half._

Dream was wearing his gloves, covering the gaping hole in his hand that was slowly closing up. 

"I wanted.. to talk to you too, but I was scared. I didn't— know what to say. I didn't mean to do any of what I did...to you, I made a mistake, _we_ made a mistake," it may not have seemed like a big deal, but he knew just how much it meant to George.

Based off of what Nick told him, George didn't think of him as just, a very easy, fuckable time filler. More than just a friend. And that wasn't acceptable. For George's sake.

And now George was actually crying, lazily dragging his knuckles against his face and under his eyes while he laughed sadly.

"Boys, you need to leave, feel free to take the rest of the day off. you can have a pass for the classes." A man's voice came from beside them, resting a hand on George's shoulder. Could professors even do that?

Dream stood up and turned away to leave, but George grabbed onto his sleeve once again.

"Please don't go,"

Dream sighed and tugged his sleeve back, mumbling an "ill text you later" before walking out and leaving George to collect his things.

But George wasn't going to let him get away that easily. He'd chased after him, following close behind while they walked back to Dream's house.

"You're gonna let me in, right?"

Dream grumbled to himself, pulling his hood a little tighter against his head. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't deny him.

"I suppose."

So he unlocked the door and stepped in, not bothering to lock it again once George entered as well.

"Talk to me?" George's voice cracked mid sentence while he looked down at his hands and twiddled with his thumbs.

"About?" Dream didn't look to George, just made his way to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of coconut water as the brunet mindlessly wandered after him.

"Dream," he whined out quietly, sitting at a stool behind the bar with a sigh.

He didn't like confrontation. That was an absolute no-thanks. He would stutter and blush and embarrass himself. He hoped Dream would understand what he was trying to say— and he did. But he wanted to hear it directly, beat around it and try to pretend he didn't know, so maybe George would just leave.

"George."

"Why did you—" George took a steadying breath to bring up as much courage as he could. Talking to Dream shouldn't have been hard. They were perfectly fine before this. Yet he found his voice balled up, lumped in his throat.

Dream had looked unaffected by the clearly nervous boy, pouring some kind of alcohol into a small glass and sliding it over the island to George.

But he was affected, very much so. He was almost choking on the scent he missed so badly. When they were at college, it was different. It was mixed with other smells, not as strong as it was the first time. But now, alone again, it was a lot to handle.

He wondered how— how Nick explained the big bruise that splintered across his nose, obviously George didn't know that the two talked previously.

"I'm listening,"

There was a lot that George wanted to ask. About what he's hiding, if he actually regretted their time together, why he didn't just talk to him about it in the first place. But what was the right thing to ask? He didn't want to seem pushy and ask everything at once.

"You could have just talked to me, about everything. I'm here. I'm not.. gonna bite." George offered a small smile, bashfully looking up to Dream from under his hair.

"It's not like we _fucked_." Dream hissed out with narrowed eyes. The younger faltered and looked back down, making Dream's eyes widen at the realization of what he'd said—

"Why does it mean so much? It was nothing, we didn't do anything." He didn't mean to, he didn't want to hurt George, but he couldn't stop. He'd put his hands on the island and leaned forward to glower down to the shrinking boy,

"Why do you think I stopped talking to you? _Because I'm not interested._ "

Dream could hear George's heart skipping and thumping, he heard how it slowly sped up until it sounded like it may explode.

"Okay," George nodded and stood from the stool, took the still-full glass in his hand, and splashed it into Dream's face.

"Go to hell, Dream." He held the glass out by his side and dropped it to the floor with a loud shatter.

The blond gasped and looked to George with surprise, watching as he strolled to the entrance and left with a slam of the door.

Once he was alone again, Dream groaned and tugged at his sweatshirt, pulling it off to get rid of the sticky drink that dripped down from his chin. He had that coming.

Not even 10 minutes later, he got a thread of texts from Nick that contained many foul words and phrases, accompanied by a death threat that... didn't seem too empty. He was definitely about to have his ass handed to him. Maybe. He didn't have intent to hurt Nick— he did what he had to, to protect George, as much as it pained him. Maybe it hurt George more than he wanted it to. If Nick was this mad.

Then he got a call. And another. And another and another, until he finally picked up.

"Let me exp-"

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you? You're fucked! Your head is- fucked, Dream!"

"I'm saying this as your frien—"

"We are not friends."

"Yes, we are. Do you know why I even said those things? Would you rather George be a little bit sad, or get his head exploded by the fucking council? I cant let that happen, Nick! I am staying here, to protect him."

"Dream..?"

"That's it. He's- my soulmate! Don't you think it hurts me too? I- I can feel every single beat his heart makes, his blood- it—"

"Dream!"

"What?"

"You're on speaker."

Dream muttered an 'oh' and heard a snicker from the other line.

"Just kidding. Now shut up, I don't want to hear about your disgusting, weird love. You're still a bitch, but.. I guess....whatever. He's crying. A lot. So go get some candy or something, and bring it over. You apologize, or I seriously will rip your head off."

"I'm not coming over there, he hates me."

"Yeah, he sure does. So apologize."

"I don't want to," Dream whined quietly into the phone, starting to sweep up the mess that had been left on the floor.

"Well too bad. Be over here in the next hour, that’s a threat."

"Whatever. Bye."

Dream grumbled and set his phone in his back pocket.

He changed the bandages wrapped around his shoulders, taking a moment to examine the pale bluish-pink flesh in the bite marks.

It had been a while since he got hurt this badly, it still stung. 

He'd gone to a store, but he didn't know what to get. Candy, that's what Nick said. But what kind? He scooped one of every kind into a cart, probably like 40 bags of random candies. And he got 3 big bottles of apple juice— that was George's favorite drink.

The cashier gave him a big bag to put everything in, which he was thankful for. She lifted the bag to him with struggle, huffing when he had taken it and walked off with ease.

He got a card as well. It had a little puppy on it and he quickly wrote on the inside  
  


_Sorry for being a dick_

Not very heartfelt.

Knock, knock again, knock once more.

Finally, Nick let him with a hard slap to his face. Not like he felt it.

"Ouch, I'm so hurt." Dream deadpanned and pushed through, looking at the small heap that laid on the couch.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" George asked quietly, pulling his blanket over his head to shield himself.

And then Dream wanted to leave again. He felt shitty, but he really _reallllly_ didn't want to be there. No way George would forgive him, it felt pointless. And sad. George had tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes, his hair was messed up, but now he was hidden in the safety of the blanket.

He swung the bag softly while he walked over and plopped down by George's feet.

"I got you-"

"I don't want it."

"There's apple juice,"

George slowly peeked his head out, looking over to Nick who watched the interaction carefully.

"And.. like 30 different candies. Or 40. Or 50 I'm not really sure.."

"Why? You very, very clearly voiced how you feel."

Dream bit down on his tongue. It wouldn't make sense to say he didn't mean any of it.

_Sorry! I didn't mean it. I just snapped at you because I'm actually in love with you! That makes total sense, right? You get it._

Instead, he just opened the bag and pushed it over to George, who gasped lightly at the weight.

"Holy shit this is heavy,"

His eyes lit up, looking into the bag at all the chocolates and sour candies. They were like stars, and it pulled a smile to Dream's lips.

"You suck dick. I still hate you." George mumbled while he grabbed out a bag of mini kit kats. And Dream could tell it was serious, he really did screw up.

"Okay well I'm gonna.." Dream awkwardly went back to the door, but Nick shoved him away and stood in front of it.

"You're not leaving, you didn't even say sorry."

"That was my sorry."

"Dude,"

Dream sighed and slunk back over to the couch, where George watched with hesitancy.

George wanted him there, of course he did. But that made everything worse. Because he knew Dream didn't want to be there. He was being forced by Nick. He meant what he said— and that meant there was no chance. A chance at what, he wasn't sure.

Maybe that was when he made the excruciating realization— that he had fallen. Hard. In the past few months, he'd grown closer and clung onto Dream's sweet words and delicate touches. Even if they weren't meant for the way George wanted, he could have taken every word for ten million love-soaked pages. Every cold brush against his skin as a kiss goodbye.

But that didn't matter, he could deny it and eventually it would go away, he could move on with the knowing fact that he had been openly rejected without even confessing.

He cursed himself, huddling his face back under the blankets. He didn't even know Dream, apparently. Nick knew. Nick knew that something was up, he knew his secret. It could have just been something small, he was overreacting and it was probably just like— surprise, Dream has two stomachs. Or he secretly has a son or something. That's ridiculous. It was more than that, Nick wouldn't have been so defensive about it.

He needed to figure it out. But for now, he focused on the cold fingers pressing against his thigh, making small circles that made him shudder. Why was Dream doing this?

He kicked his legs a bit when Dream dragged his thumb a little too softly, tickling the skin underneath.

Another jolt through his leg and a small gasp at the frozen touches. Was this supposed to be comforting? Was he not supposed to enjoy it as much as he did?

"Dream," he hummed quietly, pulling the blanket down to look at Dream, who wore a fond, yet shy smile.

He would have thought that what he said earlier— was a lie. His face didn't show sign of hate, or anger, it was full of adoration. It made him feel sick. Was he playing a game? Trying to toy with George's heart, hurt him and then act all sweet.

"You guys are disgusting, I'm right here."

Nick sent them both a dirty look, to which they simultaneously rolled their eyes.

"We're just sitting here, idiot."

"Yeah, and looking at each other with gross love faces."

"There is no 'love faces' being made, I hate him." 

"No, no you should see yourselves. You're like this," Nick made an exaggerated kissing face with his tongue sticking out. He couldn't help it, always doing things when they were the most inappropriate in the moment. He knew to stop when George sent him a glance.

"Whatever, if I leave you two, are you gonna cut each other open by the time I get back?"

"No, no I think I'm just gonna go. I'm sorry, George. Really. I wish I could explain, but.. I cant."

Nick looked at Dream with furrowed eyebrows, as if to question what he was doing.

"Explain what? You did explain. You're not interested, it meant nothing."

Dream and Nick were having a conversation, with their eyes. Mostly Nick looking at him like he was insane. Because Dream wanted to tell George everything— he knew he couldn't, though.

George watched their little exchange with a tilted head as he tried deciphering their angry looks.

"Everything okay..?"

"Just fine!" Nick and Dream exclaimed together, forcing smiles through gritted teeth.

"Woah, okay. Why are you guys... like that?" George gestured to them and scowled to replicate their faces.

"Because Dream here, is a dumbass! But we already knew that, didn't we?" Nick smiled sweetly and began pushing Dream out to door.

"Wait wait, no, you can't leave now,"

"Why?" Nick and Dream answered in unison, once again.

"Why is he a dumbass?"

"You know why,"

"Clearly, I don't."

"George-"

"Just tell me! What the fuck is up with you? You don't think I've noticed all these... weird things about you? I- I thought you were- oh my god!" George was sitting up with the blanket clutched tightly in his hands, now.

"I'm going crazy! Trying to figure this out! I cant— Nick, you know something. And maybe I'm overreacting, but this is _so_ weird!"

Dream looked at Nick with slightly widened eyes, and Nick shook his head frantically, which got a scoff from George.

"Nick I w-"

"You better fucking not."

"I won't. I'm not stupid."

"You seemed pretty stupid a bit ago when you _wanted_ to tell him." Their eye conversation,

"You two are unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable! What is it that's so bad?" George wanted to stand up and smack both of them, demand answers, but they were both much bigger than him and pretty scary.

"Tell me!"

"No!"

"Please!"

"George! No!"

George made a noise, like a toddler starting to throw a tantrum.

"Fuck you both!" George got up and stomped to the door, throwing a jacket on and reaching for the door handle between Nick and Dream.

"George wai-"

"No! _Fuck_. _You_." He didn't have anywhere to go, it would be getting dark soon, too. But he didn't really care. Maybe he could just sit in his car. Think some more. Like he did a while ago- when he came home from Dream's house.

Nick had only known Dream for what, 3 or 4 months? And he'd known George since they were 5 and 6. What was so important that Nick would keep from his best friend? Over some dude that they barely even knew!

George was getting heated, talking to himself and yelling curses at the sidewalk while he went to the parking lot. He opened his trunk and pulled a few blankets out. Plan was to sleep in his car for the night. He slid in and wrapped a blanket around himself, even with the warm weather.

But, Dream followed him.("go get him, dipshit!")

He tried to pull at the handle of the passenger door, but right as he reached for it, George locked the door.

"George, come on."

George simply pulled his phone out, scrolled through Twitter and ignored the light taps on the window.

" _Geooooorgeee_ ," Dream sang softly through the window, leaning his arms against the top of the car.

"George! Unlock the door!"

"Please?"

Dream was getting tired, he'd been sitting there for an hour with no response.

Finally, George looked over at Dream, who perked up with hope, only for George to yawn and recline his seat while retaining eye contact.

Dream eventually retreated back to the apartment, telling Nick that he wouldn't talk to him. So then Nick went, and gave up even earlier than Dream had.

"Maybe we should leave him alone."

"Yeah.. you need to make something up, to tell him. He's totally onto you. He's done research, he has notebooks full of observations."

"So that's what those notebooks in his room are— that's kinda.. creepy."

"What the fuck? You've been in his room?"

"Oh, yeah. I've been going into his room every night for the past like, 2 months."

"Dude that's fucking creepy. What the- stop! Stop going in his room. Ew, Dream! What do you do, watch him?"

"Uhh, yeah,"

Nick looked horrified, squinting his eyes and scrunching his face up.

"Hey, I can't sleep, so I watch him. He's pretty."

"You sound like a serial killer. Seriously, stop."

Dream fake pouted.

"Okay, but what am I supposed to tell him?"

Nick shrugged and sighed, scratching at his head in thought. What could they make up to explain everything? Nothing. Literally nothing.

George quickly realized, that sleeping in a car wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing. Not in the front seat, at least. He was hungry, too. And had no money. Didn't think too far ahead, did he?

But he wouldn't dare go back into the apartment. Admit defeat.

Thinking about Nick and Dream just made him upset again. They have the audacity to keep secrets? He also felt like an intruder— invasive to Dream's privacy. But Nick knew. And George didn't. Maybe it wasn't his place, he just felt like a stalker now.

Another tap on his window scared the living shit out of him. He gasped and looked over, it wasn't on the passenger side now, it was his window.

He quickly looked away to not pay attention to the blond boy waiting outside his car.

"George please let me in?"

No answer.

"This isn't funny!"

Dream grumbled and started tapping on the window continuously,

"George George George George. George! George, George George George! George! Georgeeeeeeee Georgie? Gogs? Gogy? Goog?" He continued saying his name until George quite literally began going insane.

He pulled his blanket over his head, but Dream just continued.

"Okay! Fine! You can come in!" George cried out quietly, clicking the unlock button and then hiding back under the blanket.

Dream smiled triumphantly and walked around to the passenger seat, quickly plopping in and clicking the lock.

"I'm not supposed to tell you this,"

That caught George's attention. He brought the blanket back down and looked to Dream with curious eyes,

Dream opened his mouth, thinking over if he should actually say something. He'd definitely regret it later.

"Dream!"

"I-"

George sighed and laid back into the headrest.

"You don't trust me. Neither of you do."

"I'm protecting you,"

"No you aren't. I've been writing everything down. I sound like a fucking creep!" George paused, deciding to try one last time at this stupid vampire thing.

"I know what you are, Dream."

Dream froze in the seat, suddenly becoming aware of the fragrance that flooded the car.

"What?" He choked out quietly, refusing to meet George's eyes.

"You're.. you're a..." George's eyes widened at Dream's reaction. What the fuck? He should have been scared. And maybe a part of him was, but he still..Loved Dream. No matter what. Did he just figure it out? It felt like a joke. Vampires aren't real.

"Say it," Dream whispered, biting down on his cheek almost hard enough to break the flesh.

George's breath hitched. Did that confirm it? That confirmed it. He reached out and put a hand against Dream's cheek, turning his face to connect eyes.

"Say it, George." He repeated,

George only shook his head, his throat closing up with the knowledge of.. who he was in the car with. Dream could have killed him. So many times.

No way this was real. They had to have been thinking of different things. No way. _No way._

"Why didn't you hurt me?" He finally said, after a few long moments of silence.

"I did."

George reached a hand to touch his shoulders, where Dream grabbed him previously. They were still a bit tender.

"You didn't mean to,"

Dream shifted uncomfortably, starting to feel overwhelmed with the scent.

"..I did."

George swallowed thickly, shaking his head.

"You didn't...bite,"

"George, I _did_!"

His eyes widened even bigger at this. _What_?

He stayed quiet. What was there to say? He just figured it out. It was kinda funny. He figured it out! That meant that Nick knew. Why would Nick know, and George not be able to?

"When I first took you home from the bar," Dream started

"I took you home and... bit you. You smell so good, George. I cant— you're special. I have to protect you. I need to- I-"

George sensed the distress in Dream's voice, slowly grabbing the pale hand that rested on the middle console. It all made so much sense.

"I can barely control myself around you."

Those words spun throughout George's head.

"You're everywhere. Your blood.. it stings."

"I hurt you..?"

"No, George. You sing to me."

"I sing to you.." He repeated quietly.

This was too much. George felt his knees tremble against the seat, he felt weak.

"I have to keep you safe. If they find out- you're.." Dream pinched his eyebrows together, wondering whether or not he should give more information. He definitely couldn't tell him that they were soulmates. Though maybe George had gotten a hint when he told him he _sings_ to him. 

"Can we go inside? Please?" He asked instead, deciding it was best to spare details. If Nick hadn't done enough damage the day before, he'd most certainly be doing more soon.

"Yeah,"

George was shaking though, he didn't make effort to move when Dream got out and came to the other side to open his door.

"Do you need help?"

He nodded slightly at that, holding both his arms out so Dream could grab him out.

When George was on his feet, Dream began to let go but he hastily grabbed back on when the boy had began slipping down to the ground with wobbly knees.

George laughed at the scenario he was in. He was holding onto Dream's sweatshirt, scratching at the fabric to hold himself up. He continued laughing, rambling about how this was the craziest thing and that he had to have been dreaming, while they walked back to the apartment.

"George..? Are you okay?"

"I'm so good! This is crazy, did I already say that? You're a monster!" George didn't sound upset, he sounded weirdly happy.

"Are you— in shock?"

"What? No, of course not."

George was definitely in shock. Not severely, but to a point. And that was understandable.

Although George didn't mean it in a bad way, probably, Dream's heart sank at the words. _Monster_. Dream wasn't a monster. He didn't want to be a monster, he tried his hardest to fulfill no such title.

"You can't tell Nick that you know. Okay? Can you do that? It's our little secret."

George giggled at that, stopping Dream from pulling him through the parking lot. Not without almost stumbling down again, of course.

"Don't talk to me like a baby," He threw his arms up and wrapped them around Dream's neck while he bounced on his heels to try and jump, but failed miserably.

Dream leaned down a bit and put his hands on both of George's thighs, hoisting him up so he was carrying him. They entered the building, went up the stairs, and by the time they were back to the door of the apartment, George was doing better. Dream took his time, winding through the halls to try and get George feeling better before they went in and faced Nick.

He wanted to just take George to his room and lay him down, avoid Nick and tell him he just wasn't feeling well. Maybe he could do that. That's not hard. Nick didn't need to know.

"You- you can let me down, now." George flushed lightly, letting his arms hang a little looser around Dream's neck.

He was set down, legs still shaking a bit. As soon as they walked in, George opened his mouth to talk to Nick, but stopped himself when Dream subtly shook his head from beside him. 

In attempt to get away from Nick and keep himself from saying something, he grabbed onto Dream's shirt and began pulling him to one of the bedrooms. Hopefully Nick wouldn't try to come in, he knew better.

After an incident from earlier In the year, when Nick had walked in on a rather... intimate scene, he knew to knock. That's when George was forbid from bringing his— _victims_ into their apartment.

Even with the rule, Nick still knocked and waited for an answer before entering, and so did George.

"Wha- George! Dream?" Nick called after them, but nothing else was heard from the man when George kicked his foot against something and let out an overly loud giggle. Hopefully that would give him their false intention and make him leave.

George pushed Dream down onto his bed and stood with arms crossed, his smile immediately dropping.

"Okay, now tell me everything, will you?"

Dream leaned on his elbows, looking up at George with a frown. He couldn't do that.

"I cannot,"

"And why not?"

George stalked a bit closer with a confused tilt of his head. The secret was out. And he felt much, much more underwhelmed than he thought was appropriate. It didn't feel like a new thing, Dream was still Dream. He still loved Dream. He _loved_ Dream. That was a foreign thought. Not a foreign _feeling_ , just a mere _recognition_ of the feeling.

He knew he had been fond of Dream, but he wasn't aware of the absolute infatuation he had felt for the boy until now. Because even though he was this.. monstrous creature, he couldn't think of him as any different.

"You've already— had enough stress today. And I'm to blame for all of it, I can't give you more to strain over."

Yeah. Way too much. And he wanted to be upset with Dream, for ignoring him, for saying such things to him earlier— for withholding this! They were friends. George considered him one of his closest, and he presumed Dream felt the same, but he had told Nick instead. And they were so determined to keep it from him.

Did he think George would no longer wish to be friends with him? Or did he think he'd try and sabotage him? That just seemed stupid. He wanted to know. He wanted to know everything, but perhaps he should wait for when he could actually handle it.

He couldn't be mad at Dream, because he said it was to protect him. And he understood, to an extent.

"Are you? Stressed?" George sat himself down next to Dream, who was still lying down propped up with his elbows.

"Of course. This was terrifying, I have no idea why you aren't absolutely flipping shit right now. Are you still in shock?"

"No, I just... I've been writing, for months, trying to figure this out. That day you stopped the car, it was so..bizarre. I've been doing my research."

"I know,"

"You know?"

"I know."

George wasn't sure what this meant, but the softness in Dream's voice simply made him want to melt.

"Nick says I have strong fingers, let me try to help?" He asked in a hushed whisper, pulling Dream to sit up and going behind him.

He pulled some of the hoodie down from Dream's back and pushed a knuckle into his tense muscle, trying to knead knots out and release the stress from his shoulders. He noticed bandages peeking from underneath, tracing gentle fingers along the material.

"What happened?"

"Don't worry ab- _George_ —" Dream gasped lightly at the pressure against one of his wounds, smacking George's hand away and holding onto the bandage.

"Can I see?"

"No,"

"Why not? Have you cleaned it properly?"

"No need to."

"Okay, let me see!"

"You're not gonna like it."

"I don't care,"

Dream huffed and pulled a bit of the wrapping down to expose a one of the deep pale holes from Nick's teeth.

"Holy shit! What the fuck happened?" George looked away and clamped a hand over his mouth to keep himself from purging at the mangled mess of flesh and bone.

"I told you, idiot."

"Does it hurt? Oh my god—"

"Just stings a little, I'm okay."

"There's no blood, you don't have blood?"

"My blood is like..coconut water," Dream chuckled and looked over his shoulder, turning a bit to face George.

"Yours is the first I've had in so long, I couldn't... I can barely control myself around you."

George's heart fluttered softly against his ribs. He wished the circumstances were different.

"Just me..? Why not Nick?"

"I told you, you're special."

"But why?"

Dream turned away and looked at his feet dangling from the bed. He couldn't tell George. He couldn't tell him— that he was born for the sole purpose of being Dream's. He couldn't let George think it was okay to love each other, because it most definitely wasn't. Maybe it was. They could keep a secret. They could hide it.

No, they couldn't. Dream grumbled into his hands at his dumb thoughts. It wasn't okay, they couldn't. And he was sure George could never love— even like him now. He was surprised George wasn't freaking out, trying to leave, escape him. But he already knew.

"Dream..?"

"I don't know why. Your blood is just... irresistible."

George knew there was more. He saw the hesitant glance to the ground and heard the unsure tone of his voice. But he would leave it until Dream wanted to talk about it. There was so much he needed to learn, and he would take the time to listen when Dream was ready.

Now was time to calm down for the day and relax. So he pressed his fingers into Dream's back and neck again, avoiding the bandages the best he could in the small area.

Dream eventually grabbed George's hands when it was clear he was getting tired, and pulled the both of them down into the bed in the dark of the room.

"It's getting late, go to sleep, okay? I'm gonna go.. avoid Nick the best I can." He laughed lightly, only receiving a whine from George.

"Do you have to?"

"George... we can't-"

"Please?"

George was so angry at himself, for forgiving Dream so fast, for wanting him to stay, despite everything that's happened the past week.

and Dream was just as upset at himself as well. For treating George so badly, only for him to have already known— for putting him at risk, for agreeing to stay with him.

"I don't want to hurt you George,"

"It's okay. You won't."

"I don't.. know that,"

George only wrapped his arms around Dream's torso and rested his head against his chest.

Dream assumed George had fallen asleep after a few minutes, until he felt a light vibration against his skin and a small mumble emitted.

"It's weird, not hearing... your heart. Or feeling your chest move,"

"Does it bother you..? I can leav-"

"No, no it's nice." George sighed and nuzzled his face further into the fabric of Dream's hoodie.

"It's nice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I made the scene too underwhelming, when George figures it out, but that’s kind of how it is with Bella— she recognizes her love for Edward, and doesn’t seem to care, because she loves him so much.
> 
> So I didn’t want to make it too big, because it’s the start to their true romance. Where George realizes just how much he loves Dream, because as hard as he keeps thinking about it, he just doesn’t see Dream as any different.
> 
> Here’s a note— Nick is 19 and George is 20
> 
> Hopefully I didn’t make any mistakes cause I’m tired asf☝️😛
> 
> Also— I’m posting this a bit early because we had a huge blizzard and school has been called off all week, so I had a bunch of extra free time to write. Anyways, see you next week


	5. Antirrhinum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snapdragons can represent strength, as they're able to grow in rocky, typically uninhabitable areas, but they can also symbolize themes like deviousness and grace. They are sometimes used as a charm against falsehood

George began stirring awake when an annoying beam of light struck through the curtains.

He kept his eyes closed to avoid the brightness of the room, just hugging on tighter to the cold... object? Oh, right. Dream stayed with him. Fuck.

_Dream stayed with him._

Then he opened his eyes. But it wasn't Dream, it was a pillow. There was a feeling buzzing in his chest— disappointment? Of course it was disappointment. Dream was gone.

George always seemed to wake up right before classes, it was something that got drilled in after long nights, wake up early no matter what. But today was different, and he only noticed when he looked at the curtains and realized that the sun isn't supposed to be up when he usually wakes up.

He frantically flew his hands through the sheets to look for his phone, clicking the power and groaning at the time displayed on the screen.

He was only missing first class, but that sucked. Bad. He barely ever missed classes. Why wouldn't Dream wake him up? What an asshole.

Dream. Did everything actually happen yesterday? He was dreaming it all up. That's why he was holding a pillow instead of Dream. It had to have been. That was— insane. He felt insane.

So with a yawn and quick stretch, he pulled on a sweater and some sweatpants before racing out to the kitchen to hopefully grab an apple before leaving. There was still time before next class, he could make it.

On the counter sat a plate of pancakes and sausage covered with Saran Wrap— that didn't keep the pancakes from getting just a bit soggy, though. Still, he smiled and pulled a small note that sat underneath the plate

_Sorry I didn't wake you, I figured you deserved the rest_

_Text me : )_

Okay, so it wasn't a dream.

Now George felt bad for thinking he was an ass. This was sweet— but he still had class. He peeled back the wrap and took out one of the pancakes, then slid the plate into the fridge and left with his things.

_Dream <3_

_Ugh I hate you_

_Omw to class :]_

He shot a quick text, not thinking too much about it and just hurrying to try and make it to his second class without being late.

How did he even get pancakes and sausage? Nick only ever got ramen and apples, it felt like.

By the time he'd gotten to his building, class was just about to begin. Perfect timing.

He quickly rushed into the room and scanned for the familiar face he had come to find himself already missing— pitiful. He sat next to him, a bit more hesitant than he normally would.

With knowing what Dream was, he felt a burning in his chest, telling him to keep distant and run if the man had so much as made a too-sudden movement. He convinced himself it was because he was just surprised, not scared.

"Thanks for.. breakfast," he smiled to Dream, who returned a shy grin.

"Talk when classes are done?"

"Of course,"

"Meet at Holy Land, yeah?"

George nodded to that, turning to face the front of the room. Dream wanted to meet at the bar? It seemed random, for the time of day.

꧁ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ꧂

Dream sat at a stool, glad it was day out so not too many people were inside yet. There were a few soundproof rooms in the back, for reasons you could probably imagine— so he would pull George in and be able to explain everything without fear of being heard. Well, everything except Nick. And maybe a few other things.

A light tap on his shoulder brought him to turn and face the brunet with hands stuffed tightly in his pockets. He looked around, scoffing at the disappearance of the bar tender.

He hopped up on the bar and slid to the other side, grabbing a glass out and setting it down as George looked at him with a slack jaw and widened eyes.

"Dream! You can't just- you're gonna get kicked out!"

Dream scrunched his face up and tapped a finger along the marble.

"I cant get kicked out of my own bar, George."

"What? You..?"

Dream snickered at the bewilderment on the boy's face. He never did tell him that he owned the place. But why was he surprised? He was caught frequenting the bar to check up on things and just grab drinks.

"Want a drink?"

"It's hardly noon!"

"You humans. Cant take a little day drinking?"

George rolled his eyes and planted his hands on the bar, leaning forward and peering to the different drinks.

"Whatever. Gimme something fruity?"

Dream nodded and pulled a cute glass, a jar of cherries, and a few other bottles.

He poured in the Malibu rum and melon liqueur, counting in his head with a dorky smile to get the measurements right. He messily poured in the pineapple juice in, then pulled a shaker over the glass and shook it for a few seconds. Straining was his favorite, it was weirdly satisfying.

He passed the drink over and popped a cherry in with an expecting grin.

George sipped at the drink, his eyes lighting up at the sugary drink. "Holy shit that's good,"

"Yeah?"

George hummed and stood with the drink settled in his palm, his other hand being taken by Dream's once he hopped back over the counter.

He lead George through a few hallways, back rooms, and exits before finally reaching the stretch of rooms that had strict DO NOT DISTURB signs taped to them.

"They're soundproof," Dream said lowly with a teasing nudge.

"Oh"

George felt his heart leap out of his chest, stopping for a second before entering and looking around. It just looked like... a normal room. But the door fell shut with a deafening creaky slam that made him jump and squeal out in surprise.

"Come on, sit."

He reluctantly made way to one of the small chairs that stood across from Dream, and sat with hands shaking lightly against his thighs. The room is cold.

Yeah, that's why he's shaking.

Dream began speaking, but George toned it out with his own thoughts and worries beginning to flood his mind.

Dream bit him. That's what he said, he said— in this very bar, when they first met, he was taken home and.. bit. How come he couldn't remember? It was all a haze.

"George?"

"What? Sorry, what did you say?"

Dream tilted his head and leaned forward in his chair.

"What do you remember? From the night we met."

And then George's heart was pounding once again. He knew Dream wouldn't hurt him. Not again, not now. He said that.. George was special, that meant something. He wasn't exactly sure what, but he would figure it out.

"I uh— I.. came in, and I saw you, so I wanted to say hi. And then...." He took a steadying breath, trying to rack back to that night. It was months ago, was he supposed to remember?

"I—I got drunk. Then I woke up in your bed with... was that hickey..?"

"Yeah. That was.. where I bit you."

George reached his hand up and felt over his skin, tracing the phantom mark slowly. How did he not remember? Why didn't Dream just tell him? God it would have been so much easier.

Something dug deep in his bones. An itch that he couldn't quite reach, a feeling he couldn't place. Was it anger? He was mad. Why would Dream keep that from him? He never knew what happened that night. Everything he thought happened, didn't. They didn't do anything like he had thought. He was attacked.

"You—" George pressed his back firmly to the chair, trying to make as much space as he could from Dream.

"You used me?"

Dream eyebrows raised in slight surprise.

"You knew I was drunk, I had to have been pretty damn shit-faced to have not remembered anything."

He didn't want to fight, he didn't want to be upset anymore. It was tiring. He just got Dream back. But he couldn't help it— maybe he was angry at himself, for being so stupid. Letting himself fall was even worse.

"I'm not going to lie to you. The second you walked into the room, I knew.." he paused a second and let his eyebrows furrow in frustration. "I had to have you. I'm obsessed with you, George. I couldn't control myself."

The younger chewed his lip, something he seemed to do quite often in thought.

"Why me?" His voice came out in cracks. He sounded sad, and that made Dream wince.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Dream looked down. He had this.. guilty look, and it rose a huff from George.

"You said you weren't going to lie."

It was too much, Dream knew it would do more worse than good to tell George right now. So he came up with something to change the subject.

"When did you start researching?"

George noticed the desperate try at subject change, and decided to drop it for now. He could ask later. He would get answers.

"Not too long after.. the car thing. It makes so much sense. I was right, too! I- When I came over for lunch, I was testing it. To see if I was right! God you were confusing," George put a hand on his forehead and closed his eyes.

"I almost killed you!"

The sudden raise in Dream's voice made George flinch back a little— he wasn't scared. He couldn't be scared, it was Dream. But the situation only made him come to realize that this wasn't some magical happy ever after story. Dream could truly kill him at any moment, and nobody would be able to do anything about it.

Because maybe Dream didn't share mutual feelings, he could be playing around to get to George, and then kill him. But why would he go through so much work, for a single person? He could have killed him last night. Or the week before, when he was literally underneath him.

"If you knew it was a possibility.. why would you even risk it? Do you know how incredibly stupid that sounds?"

"I had to know, Dream. You didn't hurt me. I thought... I was wrong, I thought that maybe, we were gonna...I don't know,"

Dream shifted in the uncomfortable plastic chair. This isn't going where he wanted it to.

"There's a team," he started.

"A council— A few of the strongest are in charge of laws, and make sure we stay hidden from society. You're a liability."

George gulped at this. He's a liability? What is that supposed to mean?

"I'm in charge of keeping you silent. I know you won't tell anyone, you aren't stupid. I trust you." Dream smiled softly, it wasn't bitter or fake. It sent flutters through George's chest. Dream trusted him.

"If they find out that you know, they'll silent you themselves."

George's eyes widened in understanding— he would be executed, if it was known that he figured it out.

"As long as I'm here, no one will hurt you." Dream's words were sweet, gentle in George's ears. "But you have to work with me. They're watching,"

A frozen shiver shot down George’s spine. What did he get himself into? Was it too late to just.. back out and pretend nothing ever happened? Pretend he never met Dream. He internally smacked himself, because he didn't _want_ to. He loved that he was stuck in this mess. Because he was with Dream, and Dream made him feel things he didn't know was possible.

Dream took the air straight from his mouth, made little flutters fly through his chest like never before. So as much as he wanted to _want_ to get away, forget about Dream and escape this death wish— he couldn't.

Maybe it was the thrill of knowing they could be caught— the thought that Dream could hurt him whenever he wanted. And George wouldn't stop him, he would let Dream have his way.

It would be okay, if Dream hurt him. Because words are only sounds and wounds can heal.

"Okay," his words came out in a hushed whisper. He looked around the room. It had a simple oak table against the back wall and 3 chairs. The walls were an off white, the floor a pale purple carpet.

The rooms are soundproof, that's what Dream said. Soundproof. No one could hear. Why was there soundproof rooms?

"Why are these rooms.. soundproof..?"

Dream tipped his head down to the floor with a shy smile,

"No reason." But his grin said otherwise. He was so incredibly glad that blood wasn't able to rush to his cheeks,

"Aw c'mon, there has to be a pretty good reason,"

"Just thought it was cool, or something. We can be as loud as we want and no one will hear."

Now it was George's turn to blush, but it was actually visible. They could be as loud as they wanted. That put some filthy thoughts in his head, ones he was entirely ashamed of.

Of course, he had thought shamefully of Dream in the past. Sometimes just imagining his lowered voice in his ear as a hand trailed down his belly and slipped past the waistband of his shorts— or softly crying out his name from behind a hand muffling his mouth. It was something he'd never want to admit, but fuck did it feel great.

Even when he was hooking up with random dudes from a club, all he could think of was Dream's big hands being the ones pinning his waist down into the mattress. And when he tried to drown himself with vodka late at night, he was never able to get drunk enough for Dream to leave his mind.

Dream found, in the few months they'd been friends, that it was really fun to tease George. He always got beet red and made cute little noises when he flustered. His reactions were funny, and the tiniest things seemed to make him flush. This was the perfect opportunity, and he wasn't about to pass it up.

"There's lots of things we can do in here, George."

"Wh-" George quickly drew a hand to his face and covered his cheeks.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means anything you want it to,"

They held a steady eye contact, George slinking down into his chair under the intense gaze.

_What is this?_

George was confused. Dream already told him- he wasn't interested. Was that a lie? Really a lie? Because Dream stayed with him. Slept with him. Then.. _this_.

George didn't want to ask. He didn't want to know. Well he did want to know, but was scared, horrified even.

"Why do you care?" George said. He wasn't upset or anything, he was more curious than anything.

"Why don't you just kill me, or something?"

Dream pulled his lips into a thin line. "You're my friend, George. I'm not completely cold, I have feelings," he chuckled lightly, but George only blinked and tilted his head a bit more.

"I don't kill humans. Me and my family, we don't— we don't depend on human blood,"

"Coconut water," George whispered, mostly to himself. But Dream nodded and hummed in response.

"Tell me about this.. council?"

Dream looked down to the ugly carpet. He didn't want to scare George more than he probably already was. There was a lot. A lot.

"There's three main rulers. Their names are Techno, Schlatt, and Minx. They have, powers? I guess. I mean, we all have powers. Besides the automatic strength, speed, whatever. I'm not entirely sure of what they have. I do know that Minx can put you in an excruciating pain, just from flicking her wrist."

"You all have powers?"

"God, this sounds like some dumb hero movie." Dream scrunched his nose, "But yeah. I haven't found mine yet, 500 years and I haven't even been able to do _that_."

George's eyes widened, "Woah woah wait- five hundred years?"

"Oh yeah. By the way, my name is Clay, I'm 528 years old," now George just looked lost. Perhaps the information was all too much, steam was practically flowing out of his ears.

"But don't call me that or I'll fucking drop kick you."

George slowly nodded his head, wondering if he should begin calling him Clay just to tease him.

He decided, fuck it.

"Okay, Clay." He let the name fall off of his tongue with a small smirk and hooded eyes.

Dream very visibly scowled while he balled his fist up next to him, but the hard look was quickly overtaken by a playful grin, urging George to continue.

"What, you don't like being called Clay?"

"Sto-"

"Clay, what a cute name!"

"Shut up."  
  


"Make me,"

George tapped his foot against the floor, carefully studying the growing smirk that lifted a corner of Dream's pretty little mouth.

"You want me to make you shut up?" Dream held that murky gaze, sharp with cocky confidence that had George squirming and looking away. He was suddenly brought to the realization of where they were, again. Anything could happen, and no one would know. There was a single question that kept at his mind, poking and scraping and begging to escape. But he was nervous, nervous to ask and nervous of the answer he would hopefully be provided.

"No- no no, wait—"

"What, scared now?"

George bit down on his lip and tapped his foot with a more urgent pattern. Now that he'd challenged Dream— he wanted to back down and curl up, hidden away and safe from the predatory eyes staring him down.

He felt helpless, looking at Dream. He wondered if— if Dream knew how badly in love he was. It was almost painful. Because he wasn't sure(and didn't really want to find out) If him and Dream were... allowed. Allowed to be having such private moments, allowed to look at each other for seconds too long, allowed to make remarks as such.

Surely Dream didn't know. Because he wouldn't be doing this if he did.

A part of him itched and hoped that the feeling was shared.

He wondered if, maybe Dream— had an affect on him. That sounded crazy, but all of this did. There was endless possibilities.

When he saw the little smile that crinkled at the corners of Dream's mouth, or the wide grin that creased his eyes— or heard that dumb tea kettle wheeze, everything felt okay.

Death was worth loving Dream.

If that's what it took, George was more than willing.

Or,

He could ask Dream to turn him. Was that stupid? Absolutely. And he was aware of how incredibly stupid it was, but maybe that was what he wanted. It seemed way too early for that.

Fuck.

This is insane. _Two hearts and no brain_ , you could say.

George never thought he would be asking if it was _too soon for eternal damnation_. But, it couldn't have been that bad. The concept seemed pretty cool— living forever. How did vampires die? They were immortal, right? So could they die of thirst? Stake in the heart? He had so many questions still.

Yes, he was scared.

"I'm not."

Dream hummed, happy with the response. George was clearly choked up, a bit spooked from his clap back.

"Clay," George topped it off with a sweet smile, to which Dream narrowed his eyes and focused intently on the flustered, knowing boy.

"You're a bit daring today, aren't you?" Dream had began standing from his seat, signaling that he would indeed be shutting the idiot across from him up, whatever that meant.

This panicked George, making his eyes widen and his face going a darker red as he scrambled to push himself against the back of the chair.

"Didn't even have to touch you to get you all hot and bothered," Dream continued to stalk forward, reaching a hand out to invite George up out of the uncomfortable chair. "Come on Georgie, you aren't scared."

George loudly rolled his eyes, shook Dream's hand away, and stood up with crossed arms.

"Why would I be scared? You're ridiculous, honestly you're-" he had been cut off by a hand abruptly grabbing his cheeks, forcing his face a little too close for comfort.

"Go on, you can continue." He grabbed at the arm holding his face, surprised and blushing even more than before. His mouth was open, throat tightening trying to find words— but all that came out was a shaky breath as his eyes trailed down to Dream's lips.

It was so perfect, the opportunity so easily being handed to right to him. His widened eyes had fallen to lazy half-lids, flickering back up to meet the other pair under long eyelashes.

"Hmm, strange," Dream whispered, pulling George a bit closer with a thumb swiping across his bottom lip. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from the younger, close enough to feel his breath.

"Hey," George's chest was swelling more and more by the second, breaths getting heavier as his heart slammed around— he was sure Dream could feel how hard it was beating.

It's hard to breathe when Dream is looking at him. It burns and aches in the most amazing way, it's everything he's ever wanted, Dream is everything he's ever wanted.

"Hey." Dream laughs quietly, pressing even closer.

God how George wanted to kiss him. Right there, it was so easy. But he couldn't. Because Dream was playing this stupid game, and it was confusing and he didn't want to screw things up—

So he pushed away and looked past Dream, to the wall behind him. All to escape the eyes that made him feel so fucking helpless. It was always interrupted: These moments, messed up in some way every single time.

"Stop it. You're confusing me."

"How so?" Dream knew. Of course he did, how could he not? George had made his feelings clear, he thought.

George huffed out in frustration, turning his head to face the wall.

"You know how."

"I don't,"

"Seriously, Dream?"

"Seriously! Enlighten me."

George bit down on his tongue. He was starting to get upset, his face still flush and warm, grasping the hem of his shirt and pulling to ease his nerves.

He could tell Dream, fuck it all up and inform him of his wishes.

Or he could dismiss it with a laugh, say he was joking.

Ask politely to continue their little scene.  
  


_Do you mind if we resume?_

That thought brought a jittery laugh to bubble in his throat.

_I'm an absolutely mess for your love_

_I can't help but love you_

_And_

_I try so hard not to_

_But I think I'd die without you_

No, no that's way too intense.

_I love you._

Too plain.

It was more complex, more complex than going on a date and kissing goodnight. More complex than holding pinkies and walking each other home.

This was just teasing. It had to be.

"Friends don't do this." His words came in a hiss, more vicious than intended. His head was still turned away, fingers tangled tightly in the fabric of his shirt.

A warmness tingled behind his eyes, the emotion absolutely wrecking him and sending his knees into an embarrassing mess of wobbles and pricks. He had to stumble back into his chair to avoid his legs giving out underneath him.

"Fuck, George I—"

"No, no you need to- you're complicating this! You told me.. you said," George gnawed on the inside of his cheek. He opened his mouth, trying to draw in a breath of air, but the oxygen refused to flow down. His lungs burned, his vision felt blurry and he wasn't sure if it was from tears or the breathless choking on absolutely nothing.

_I'm obsessed with you, George._

Those words flooded his mind, pounded through his ears in a hazy thick of deceit. What could that even mean? Just his blood? That doesn't explain _this_.

Dream let him take the time to catch his breath. He understood. He forgot what he told George, he forgot he never told him how fabricated the lie was.

Dream thought about his next words carefully, but ended up just saying them despite any repercussions that may occur with the following discussion. "I don't want you to get hurt,"

George rubbed his eyes. He rubbed them so hard, small purple lines clouded his vision and they made small squishing noises inside his skull. "What?"

"You can protect me." He continued with a bitter grin,

"George you're my—"

Dream didn't want to say it. He didn't want to explain that— George was a gift, made just for him. He didn't want to explain that the only reason George was alive, was to be found by Dream. He didn't want to explain that George was forged perfectly for him, and no one else. Perhaps it could be seen as romantic, being someone's one and only, but being made for the sole pleasure of someone else wasn't something to take lightly.

So, he didn't. It could wait. Wait until they were doing better, until they could figure something out.

"Your what?"

This was wrong, everything about this felt like a dangerous ledge. George didn't seem scared, he didn't seem like he would run once Dream got everything out.

He hadn't ran yet, through this time of finding everything out. He even asked Dream to stay. The fact that George was there, in that room, trusting Dream, was enough to completely melt him.

Lying to George, keeping this from him, it didn't feel right.

"What else do you want to know?" Another topic exchange. Weak, yes, but he really needed to get out of this.

"What the fuck," George huffed out, eyebrows twitching downwards in frustration.

"Of course there is! I want to know so much— I need to know everything and- you won't tell me everything and this is a lot and, you're confusing the fuck out of me and I'm in-"

"George, George, chill. Calm down. One sentence at a time?"

George was finally able to draw in a deep, much needed breath. He steadied his hands on his knees, leaning forward in his chair to peer up to Dream.

"Why is my... blood? Why does it smell good?"

"I don't kno—"

"Dream! No more lies!"

"George. _I don't know._ "

It wasn't a complete lie. George's blood didn't only smell good to Dream, it would attract all kinds of vampires if they stepped in his vicinity. Something was in his stream, pumping a fragrance through his veins, and Dream didn't know what that was.

He _did_ know, that George's blood was especially aromatic for Dream, specially scented just for him. But he couldn't explain that.

"How did you know where I was? When you saved me. Did you follow me?"

"George I have this feeling," he started, a nervous smile flashing over his face.

"When you're in trouble, I just... know? I wasn't following you."

"What about Nick?"

"Just you."

"Why?"

"Because we're.." there it almost slipped, once again. "Because of your blood, I can smell it from miles, now. I can hear your heart and when you breathe and- everything, I hear everything and I can't explain it."

"And those...cuts? On your shoulders?"

Dream absentmindedly reached a hand up and circled one of the bandages. He couldn't expose Nick. Maybe he could. They were keeping this from Nick anyways, but he would definitely react negatively to the secret kept from his life friend.

"I got in a fight with someone, but it's healing,"

"Who?"

"Why does that matter?" He snapped, teeth barring out slightly. George flinched back and didn't dare ask more about it.

"Sorry," he said quietly, looking down to the floor.

"There are things I can't tell you, and you need to understand that. Okay? I wouldn't be keeping things from you if it wasn't necessary."

George nodded, despite his anxious yearning for knowledge.

"Can we go get dinner?"

"Do you even eat?"

"No, but you do, and I really wanna get out of this conversation. Let's be..normal? For just a while. It's a lot."

꧁ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ꧂

_A date_.

George smiled to himself at the thought. Obviously, that's not what it was, but he loved the idea of the possibility.

That sounded unfair.

Trick Dream into going on a date with him. Dream is the one who asked, though. Even if his intentions were different than what George wanted them to be. It was confusing. He didn't know what Dream was feeling, it's like he was completely unreadable.

He said he didn't want George, but he didn't complain about sleeping with him, and then pulled this stupid stunt. Maybe they were confusing each other.

"Okay, yeah."

"Feel like dressing up?"

George rolled his eyes playfully and grinned. Whatever negative thoughts he had, were quickly washed away from the growing smile on Dream's face.

"Always."

So, they left in their separate cars, agreeing to meet back at George and Nick's apartment when they were ready. There was still time, about an hour until they were actually going to go. Because Dream had looked up a special occasion prior to their talk; he was so glad things didn't get heated, that he was allowed to opportunity of asking George to go.

George stood in the too-small bathroom in their apartment, running hands through his hair to try and keep the stray hairs from sticking out. And they wouldn't cooperate.

"Dude. You look fine." Nick stood in the doorway, chuckling at his friends persistent attempt at fixing the strands.

"No, I look like rubbish. God I hate Dream!" George whined quietly, waving his hands around and giving up on fixing his unbudging hair.

"You guys sure made up fast, huh?"

"Oh, yeah." He glanced over to Nick, biting down on his tongue to keep from spilling. Nick knew. And he kept it from George. Nick knew that Dream was a vampire, and that was fucking weird.

"We talked. And," his face flushed slightly, beginning to grow angry with his friend. It seemed to be the emotion of the week.

"Nevermind. What time is it?"

"Uhhh like, I don't know? I'm not a clock,"

"Check your phone, fucking idiot!"

"Chill! Don't need to be so rude to your dearest sappy nap! Dream will be here in like, a minute. Or something."

"What?" A dread flashed over George, and he quickly scrambled to roll the sleeves of his tux up a bit. He pulled one last hand through his hair, a final attempt at fixing his mess of brown.

And then there was a knock.

George pushed past Nick, racing to the door and flinging it open.

Dream jumped at the sudden opening. "Hey," He smiled nervously, holding hands behind his back to hide whatever he was holding. "Dream! Hi. Can we just—"

Dream put a hand on George's chest and pushed, forcing him to step backwards and let him in.

"We have some time, no rush. I have a surprise,"

This earned a small noise of curiosity and a tilt of George's head. Dream pulled his other hand out from behind his back, smiling with the two masks dangling from strings over his fingers.

"It's a masquerade party, hope you like dancing."

Fuck.

_Fuck_.

"Fuck."

"Fuck?"

This was a dance. Dream and George would be dancing. That's what these parties were, eating pretty foods at candlelit tables and sharing desserts and slow dancing to soft songs.

"This sounds an awful lot like a date,"

"Maybe it is."

Nick cleared his throat from the entrance of the living room, mock disgust curling his lips upwards.

"You guys are basically fucking right now."

"What the fuck Nick!" George stepped away from Dream, who had somehow stepped a bit too far into his personal bubble.(not like he was complaining)

"It's true! Get a room!"

"Nick. We're literally just standing here."

"Aaaaaand... somehow having sex. Right in front of me."

"Can we please leave?" George asked quietly, his eyes pleading as he tugged at Dream's sleeve.

And Dream agreed, quickly pulling George out and to his car.("Don't have too much fun! Bring condom-" "Nick _shut up_.")

Dream handed George one of the masks. It was a light blue with lace fringe on the sides and by the eye slits, wearable by the white elastic that strapped to the sides.

Dream's was a golden color that matched his eyes perfectly. Instead of the lace running around the sides, there was netting and lace on the fabric and in patterns around the holes.

"You really like yellow," George smiled over to Dream, who bore a confused look. "What?"

"You always wear yellow?"

"It's Green, George."

"I'm colorblind."

Dream felt bad now. "Why didn't you tell me?" George rolled his eyes and huffed out a small laugh. "Never came up,"

They left it at that and Dream began driving off towards their destination. It was a large building, elegant and tall, yet wide and round at the base.

They stepped out and walked towards the entrance, masks in hand.

They stopped outside, and Dream took the mask from George's hands. He put a soft hand on the brunet's cheek and slid the mask up, reaching the elastic around his head and fastening it tight, but not too tightly. "There. You ready?"

George's blush lips parted slightly, eyelashes fluttering quickly at the closeness of the moment. "Yeah," he whispered, watching carefully as Dream put his own mask on.

They walked in, and immediately George felt out of place. He wasn't suited for fancy parties. his hair wasn't slicked back and his shoes weren't shiny, his sleeves were rolled messily, he just wasn't made for these kinds of things.

Dream, on the other hand, looked beautifully matched for the occasion. The purple lighting shone down on his figure, illuminating his outfit and pale skin perfectly. His hair was tucked back behind his ears, not a single strand out of place.

He had grown used to going out to expensive restaurants with Dream and Nick, but not a single time did he feel deserving of Dream's spoiling nature. He was just a college student barely getting by without the help of his bastard family, he couldn't afford to be paying for things like this, so of course he let Dream take them out and pay when it was completely insisted on.

Without realizing what had been happening, he was pulled over to a small table with an eggshell white tablecloth and a bottle of champagne.

George knew he wasn't legally allowed to Drink, Dream did too. He still had a few months, but that didn't stop him before, and it wouldn't stop him now. He always got by without the need of an ID.

"This place is huge,"

Dream popped open the bottle and started pouring a bit into the small glasses. "Relax, okay? I know you get.. nervous, when we're out, but this is gonna be fun!"

George nodded and glanced around to the other people seated at the tables. No one was looking at them, they were talking amongst themselves and eating food. Only paying attention to each other.

"Thank you for this, I don't— how can I pay you back? You know I'm broke," he frowned, pulling his eyes down to look at the treading of the tablecloth.

"I have some ideas," Dream's voice was rich and low, and George nearly choked on his spit, his pupils blowing wide as he looked up with his mouth hanging. "W-what?"

"Bow to me, treat me as your god." Dream mocked a horrible English accent, laughing between words. "Yes sir," George meant for this to be a playful little comeback to Dream's game, but he was still a bit surprised and it came out more serious than intended.

He could hear Dream's breath hitch lightly, his chuckles coming to a halt. He took his bottom lip between his teeth and furrowed his brows, studying George to find his intentions. It was a bit hard through the mask, his expression was hidden.

A man dressed in a buttoned tailcoat came by, the feather on his mask bouncing as he spoke.

"Menus for you gentlemen, may I fetch any other drinks?"

George had to hold himself back from giggling at the usage of words. "I'm okay," Dream only shook his head, and the man left.

George opened the menu and immediately shut it.

"I'm not eating this. Oh my god."

Dream looked up from his menu(he just liked looking. Wasn't gonna buy anything for himself) "Do you not like any of it? I'm sorry, we can go somewhere els-"

"No, no it's just— too expensive, I don't want to spend your money anymore. You always take us out and- and I can't afford this, I feel like I'm.. scamming you or something?" George rubbed his arm, pushing his menu to the middle of the table.

"Let me spoil you, I want to, George. I like spending money on you and Nick. It makes me feel like I actually have people that care, and I know that sounds— like I'm trying to buy your love or something, but I'm not. Just let me, okay? Pick some food, we're having a fun night."

George sighed and pouted a bit, sticking his lip out while Dream gave him an encouraging nod. He felt a bit weird being the only one who was gonna eat. Dream never did eat a lot, but at least he ordered something before.

"Why did you only ever go out with me if Nick was there?" He asked, opening the menu back up and looking over the options.

"He smells bad. Cancels you out so I wouldn't hurt you."

George snorted into his hand, nodding in agreement. "Seriously? He doesn't smell _that_ bad!"

"Yes he does, so serious! You should smell him with my nose,"

This only made George laugh more, his chair rocking slightly as he hit the back ofit. "You're ridiculous!"

The waiter had come by and taken George's order, but not without a weird, expecting stare at Dream until he mentioned he wasn't going to get anything.

George didn't even know what he got. It was the least expensive thing on the menu, and it had a French name he had no idea how to pronounce. But he liked it, so that was fine.

"You gonna buy me a dress next? Some heels or a new purse?" George grinned, setting his fork down in the empty plate.

"I'm not a sugar daddy."

"You could be, I expect a mini dress on the doorstep next week."

"overnight shipping, but you must provide me some pictures. Perhaps a video?"

"I don't know about all that, how about you come see in person?"

"Maybe I will,"

They were both leaning on their elbows over the table, hovering dangerously close to one other for the third time that day.

George went to lean in a bit further, curling his fingers around Dream's tie and pulling lightly. He was basically shooting heart eyes directly at the blond.

"Don't fall in love, Georgie."

Well fuck.

That was meant as a joke.

Just a joke.

Dream grabbed at George's hand and took his tie away, standing and helping George up as well. "Dance is starting soon, let's go?"

George was preening at the hand holding his own, bathing in the gorgeous light that hit Dream like magic. He was pulled away into another room, where masked people stood with their partners and awaited the music to begin.

"I can't dance," George whispered, his face heating up as Dream snickered. "Follow my lead and you'll be fine. Try not to step on my feet."

The lights faded and a soft tune strung out. Dream's hands twitched forward, asking permission to wrap them around George. The shorter nodded hesitantly, pulling his arms around Dream's neck as hands rested delicately on his waist.

And then they were moving. Their eyes met through masks, and they were both pulled into their own little world. A world where everything would be okay, a world where they could do what they wanted without fear of what may come.

George stumbled a bit, stepping on one of Dream's shoes and falling forward into him. "Fuck— shit- sorry,"

"You really suck at this,"

George scoffed and tugged at Dream's hair. "I told you! My parents weren't rich enough to get me private dance lessons _your highness_."

Dream rolled his eyes exaggeratedly and dipped George down, a move that definitely wasn't appropriate for the type of dancing they were doing. "It's cute. Just shut up and keep doing what I'm doing."

The brunet squealed quietly at being dipped down, holding his arms tighter around Dream's neck to keep himself up(even though he was already fully supported).

He looked up at Dream through dark lashes, slowly being pulled back up with a hand settled on the small of his back.

But they didn't keep dancing, they stood and looked at each other through squinted eyes and dark masks. They were close again. They were always close. Close enough to connect, and for a second, George pondered just surging forward and sealing down into the kiss he had wanted so badly.

Dream did too. He thought hard, he even acted just a bit, tilting George's chin up with his pinky and inching forward. And it was right there. What they had both wanted, right in front of them, the chance waiting to be grabbed and dragged through.

This was going to happen. George's breath was hot against Dream's mouth, swollen lips begging to be kissed until they were purple.

But as soon as their lips brushed, Dream jerked away and forced his head to look to the side. This _couldn't_ happen.

They both knew that, but it didn't stop the small writhe of anger from bubbling in George's stomach. He felt nauseous, upset that this was ripped from him.

But he only sighed, and let Dream guide him through another sequence of short moves to the music.

How many times could this happen today? Having a kiss practically handed to them, but never being able to pull through? It almost seemed unreal. Supernatural, might I say.

The soft touch on George's waist soon became rough and bruising, fingers pushing through clothes and nails breaking skin.

"Dream?" He winced slightly, looking up to see darkened eyes glaring down at him.

"Dream that— that hurts,"

Dream pushed harder as they swayed and stepped. They were close, too close. Nick wasn't there to help calm Dream down, it was just George. And George was right there.

"Are you..okay?"

Dream leaned down and whispered into George's ear, "I want to kill you, George."

"No you don't." If he was scared, he didn't show it. "You're dancing with me, you care about me. Remember? Try not to focus on the smell."

Of _course_ George was scared. He wanted to leave. Run and never look back. But he didn’t, because deep into his core, he _didn’t_ want to run. And that overtook him, kept him standing with Dream despite the bold words that spilled.

Dream closed his eyes and nuzzled his nose into George's neck, an all too familiar feeling from the previous week.

He should have known what would happen. He hadn't been alone with George this long in a while, and it wasn't doing him good.

George pushed him away, despite how badly he wanted to stay glued in that position for forever. "Stop.”

Dream had let out a noise without even realizing, and George gushed at the low growl, even if it was made for reasons he'd prefer not think about.

By this point, Dream had lost his put together look. A sheen of sweat stuck his hair to his forehead, stray strands of hair falling down over his face and into his eyes as he peered down at George.

"I want.." his brows knitted together tightly, trying to keep himself from giving in and taking George then and there. It'd have been so easy.

"I know," George whispered, bringing a hand up and brushing the hair out of Dream's face. He landed his hand to rest on the side of his face, thumbing his jaw gently in attempt to calm him down.

"Listen to the music, do you know this song?"

Dream closed his eyes and hummed. Of course he knew the song. It was gentle and flowy, low notes blending with highs.

He'd have to apologize and thank George later. _Thanks, btw. Sorry for wanting to murder you. Lol._

George smiled and retreated his hands down to lay against Dream's chest. "Better?"

"Yeah,"

No. _No, it's not better._

If anything, this made it worse. The raw affection George was pouring out through touches and words— it was sickening.

But he could control it. Maybe. Like George said, he cares. And that's enough to get him through this.

A few more songs played, bringing them back together in a tight embrace by the time the music stopped and everyone began getting ready to leave the small ball.

"Wanna come back to mine?"

"Of course,"

Dream helped George out and to his car, sliding in and letting the engine run idly.

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to be going to Dream's house alone. But he wanted to be with George, and George wouldn't dare decline the offer.

"Thank you for this, it was fun,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." George giggled and nodded, finally pulling the mask free from his face.

So they began their short journey back to Dream's home in the night. The moon was lighting the sidewalks, street lamps flickering into the cracks of concrete.

If George couldn't have Dream, he was perfectly fine with just continuing these small nights out, itching almost close enough to their kiss. It hurt. Dream pulling away, he wondered if it was his fault. Did Dream just not like him enough? He'd made it pretty clear by now that he _did_ want something from George. Unless he was just being toyed with.

Dream wouldn't do that. But maybe George truly didn't know anything about Dream, he'd already kept so much.

They stepped through the thresh of the door, and immediately, Dream spoke in a hushed mumble.

"I think it's pretty obvious now, but I meant nothing of what I said,"

George looked up, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"You're everything. I want to give you all I have but— but I can't. _We can't_."

A part of George's heart absolutely shattered at that.

"What I was gonna say earlier is— you're my soulmate, George."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. Sorry :D
> 
> I’m so unmotivated to write I’m having like. A major writers block rn.
> 
> Also it was just my birthday so I went on a trip?? Plus other personal things and I just. I’m not sure how often I’ll update this now, but I’ll try to get chapters out sooner. Sorry this chapter sucks LOL I hate it. hope the tiny bits of cute makes up for it
> 
> I’ll post stuff on Twitter now ig SJSBDKDK @Gozkinn :p


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